The calendar reads spring, but the morning weather reads winter.
A day for this pretty little song on the piano.
A cup of matcha, swirled with love in a crescent moon.
Georgia – such a state of mind, such a state of spring.
Peach blossoms, perhaps, for Georgia.
A switch from the cherry blooms that would otherwise occupy the sky.
Falling like cream into this cup… caught with the care of a kind barista.
Small acts of love from one human being to another.
On only the second day of spring.
