First blossom and first draft.
Two weeks later than last year, Provence is in bloom. If you look behind the blossom you can still see the last (?) of the snow on the mountain.
The air smells of violets. I have a tan already as I have been sitting out on the terrace in twenty degrees, cuddling an ill cat, working my way through a walnut tart inspired by a walnut painting and reading through my first draft. It's off to my first reader tomorrow.