That’s the title of this painting by John William Waterhouse, he of Lady of Shalott fame.
Here it is, the middle of March, and it’s 75 degrees outside. Winter is a mere technicality at this point. I think only of the inevitability of Spring with a sense of anticipation that I haven’t felt in years.
I’m not much of a fan of Waterhouse or the Pre-Raphaelite painters in general but the sight of fair damsel gathering wildflowers was just too tempting to pass up.
Here’s to another year in the sun.