I picked the last Dahlia out of the garden today. The last of the summer flowers. And this afternoon, I found the first egg of a young hen. Every day is the last of something and the first of something else.
I picked the last Dahlia out of the garden today. The last of the summer flowers. And this afternoon, I found the first egg of a young hen. Every day is the last of something and the first of something else.
leo green on March is Pink and Yellow | |
amanandhishoe on Happy and Sad at the Same Time | |
SHIRLEY CLIFT on Happy and Sad at the Same Time | |
amanandhishoe on Life is Full of Mystery | |
Kimberly S. on Life is Full of Mystery |