Yesterday I worked on a baby quilt at a friend's house. It has nests, birds and eggs in the various fabrics. It's fun to work with and couldn't be more springlike. Sewing with friends feeds the hunger for continuity we all possess. At the same time we were sewing, we were sharing our feelings about our neighbor who had died the day before of melanoma. I said it seemed strange to think of him dying in the spring, but my friend thought it must have been comforting to him. Seasons and change. We resist or long for both. It is our struggle on the planet.
The door to the studio is open, and I can hear birds. The dogs are sunning themselves on the dirt outside. It's day to treasure.
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