"What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood?"
If i could do over a childhood, I think Easter would be one of wax paper crayon flowers and butterflies, real bunnies and grass fields. Of a picnic in a meadow of early spring wildflowers. For me it’s a longing for the fragrance of new blooms…the turning of a season, the renewal, a certain kind of hopeful wandering. It is a moment to step onto a warm ray of a moonbeam.