There’s night and day, brother, both sweet things, writes George Borrow in a passage from his novel, Lavengro. There’s sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things…. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?
In my notes for this week of the year, I find myself in the middle of butterflies, days of color and nectar, drifting and soaring. These days, I can see were the sweetest.