And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still like muffled drums are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Time gets away from us. Spring is here with lovely warm days and the mockingbirds are starting to serenade us from the lamp posts and rooftops.
Dorset, England:

When I see the English landscape, I think of my great-grandfather who left Yorkshire as a young man to live in the desert of southwestern Colorado. He never returned to England because he wasn't sure his papers were in order and feared he wouldn't get back into the United States. Yes, the desert is pretty in its own way, but I always wonder how much he missed the green fields of his native land.