"There's a little brown road winding over the hill
To a little white cot by the sea
There's a little green gate
At whose trellis I wait
While two eyes of blue
Come smiling through at me." - Arthur A. Penn
| It's an annual ritual. Here I sit...yearning for Spring (which, it has to be faced is still some time away)...and heeled sandals (for which I have neither the sense of balance nor the enthusiasm to welcome all the flotsam and jetsam that would make its way off the sidewalk and between my toes). Yet here I am...oggling Surface to Air's safari green suede trellis-y numbers...and dreaming of an end to all this snow and ice. |  |
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