Sprung

From the time I was a squishy big headed squeaker riding a tractor wagon through my grandmother’s flower gardens in Newtown Square, I’ve always fallen for this time of year. Now after essentially ten years without a change in season, this Spring has got me all a twitter. I find myself mumbling about cherry blossoms, dogwoods and rhododendron and just marveling at what is surely the luckiest, most beautiful one block walk from the subway a fella could have.