I see weeds.
Hello, Mr. Bee. (Even bees love weed.)
I see you, bug. (Have you missed my balls?)
And I see my feet.
At the grocery story, I saw this poor bird, apparently grieving. She just waited there, as if she expected her friend to rise from the dead.
Not a very peaceful message.
But see, love and peace are not dead.
I know I’m not the only one suffering.
“Everywhere I go I’m putting on.”
Look, the aliens have landed again!
But the sun will come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that, tomorrow, there’ll be sun…
It’s a stormy start to May here in the Q. It’s making my head hurt. But come next week, it’s supposed to be about 20 degrees warmer. Enjoy your Sunday.