Spring was late this year...very, very late...but today was its second appearance.
We're ignoring rumours of temperature drops tomorrow.
How to celebrate such glorious weather?
A lunch with a writer friend along the lake.
Then stopping to watch the pansies being watered by the tomb of the The Duke of Brunswick, full name Charles Frederick August William (1804-1873). He was said to be have many talents including his horsemanship, languages and musical abilities. Exiled from Brunswick, he fled first to Paris and ended his life in Geneva to which he left a great deal of money to build his tomb modeled on one Italy. (I also just learned he paid for the wonderful gold-tipped iron gates that mark the entry to the Park des Bastions.
Then on the way to bus, this sign. I've only seen one and it looks home made. Somehow there's a story.
Back home I curled up with a new library book and heard a melodic tinkling. Only after searching did I realise it was the chimes that my housemate had brought back from her sister's house. In the winter the thick windows and the thick walls dulled their angel notes.
Who cares if tomorrow is rainy or not. Today was perfect. Tomorrow can be perfect too if it is raining. Perfection is in the eye to the beholder, isn't it.