Spring is a too kind, and way too misleading word for a day like today. Not even a single drop of sun, or glimpse of sky, just an ocean of grey. I am not whining, mind you, just stating a fact. Not a day goes by when I don't inspect the trees for the magic appearance of buds (the early ones I showed you were from an unidentified and hopelessly optimistic plant in my backyard). And then the other day, like someone out there just knew that I would die if I didn't see something soon, this appeared:
Yarnbombing on Kultorvet, and the new floor all done. In this end, at least.
Waiting just got a little easier.