Ranunculas

Dear God, this almost-spring sunshine! I stopped for a quiet moment to admire these ranunculas, and when I kept going - I had the pusher, Owen was with me - I began to hear a rustle. Two small hands had shot out while I lingered, and grabbed a cellophane-wrapped bunch of daffodils. We turned around and furtively returned them to the florist. I'm pretty sure that nobody noticed a thing.