Every year, blossom anew

And every day in life a new chance of blossom.
The thing I find most intriguing in life, and you have to look around you at each and every person to ponder this in all it's intrigue, is that every night each human being (well, apart from night shift workers etc) tucks him/her self up in a bed (if we are lucky to have one) and drifts off into an unknown world to sleep and regenerate life forces in preparation for the next day. A vulnerability endured by all. A re-living of the unknown life in the womb. Every single night (usually).
This blossom too has been in sleep mode through winter months.

I'm off to pack my bags for a two week trip to Bristol. After one or two days there is invariably some argument and my sister declares, 'well, that's the honeymoon period over' and it's a matter of 'putting up with each other' after that. Old habits die hard.