Winter. Lifeless, asleep, dead. All is gone. Lost. Until the last frost melts away. A sprig peeks up through the earth and winks at the sky. Buds and flowers appear bearing gifts of fruitfulness. Year after year, spring arrives; ever the same, dependable, faithful. Life renews. Time passes. Distance separates. But vibrant colors burst through the faded tapestry of memories. Friendship. Never-ending, never-waning. Ever alive.
Veronica Jorge
See you next time on February 22nd!
Books Reviewed by Veronica
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Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
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It’s the dead of winter and I’m still raking leaves and collecting branches that the winds have broken and scattered; all of which will eventually be ground into mulch and reused and reclaimed to nourish the soil. I even pick up a few feathers from fallen birds; taking off my gloves to feel the smoothness of the feathers, and to admire the colors and designs in each one.
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Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
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Featured Author Veronica Jorge credits her love of history to the potpourri of cultures that make up her own life and to her upbringing in diverse Brooklyn, New York.
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The last of the leaves have fallen from the trees and covered the ground in colors of orange, yellow, red and green.
Nothing Found
beautiful!
Thanks, Denise!