I was fortunate to spend a couple of laid-back days with my family in Watkinsville, Georgia.

In the US of A.

It was rainy or overcast most of the time . . .

but spring was on the way just the same.

You could hear it early in the morning with the birds talking up a storm, and . . .

. . . see it, too. Color was popping out everywhere.

Once someone saw some of the pictures I’d taken of my own neighborhood—here on the east shore of the Pacific Pond—and told me I was lucky to live in paradise. What I’ve often wondered since then is . . .

. . . who doesn’t?

Eyes like the dawn

Dawn brings the day—out for me.

(unknown Shizuoka folk duo)