“It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.”
― George Orwell, 1984

A damp day, a long walk, and nothing interesting to photograph in the woods or along the river. Maybe, because I walked having two long conversations and that is where I put my concentration and attention today while outdoors. So, as I approached the house, on my way in to meet with my client, Jane, on her writing, I stopped at the garden that has not been touched or tended in months. And I took these pictures, deep and luscious rose in a bed of brown, dried weeds. And I felt grateful for the lift of mood. On Instagram, a writer who follows me commented that she would like to print a huge poster of this color to hang on her wall, so I knew it wasn’t just me that needed to be immersed in mauve this morning.

In the late afternoon, instead of taking a nap, I went into the kitchen and prepped all the veggies for dinner and cooked the rice so the girls could do the stir fry.

What delicious, warm, soft, chocolate chipped treat did I bake today, you ask?

My daughter, at my request, made us some masks.