As many times as I've walked down that alley, this afternoon these bright flowers on the whitewashed fence were new to me, and offered real help in lightening my increasing sense of discouragement. Logically it "should" be the opposite with longer spring days, shorter nights? Maybe so, but I'm reading the way I'm feeling as a sign all's not well, as a symptom to push me to decisions for a better, more productive future.
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