Winter is fading away. Silently. On hushed tiptoes.
The enigma of the mist over the lake no longer greets my sleep-riddled eyes as I draw open the curtains these mornings.
Nor does the truant sun cast a kaleidoscope of images on the white-washed wall as I walk into my kitchen to brew myself a Darjeeling.
Pristine white buds have started to arrive on my jasmine vine.
And did I not hear plaintive strains of the cuckoo ringing from afar ?
I open the window.
Let the mellow morning breeze play with my tresses.
Take a sip of my tea. (The pleasure of a first flush. I smile.)
All ready to embrace the colours and joie de vivre of impending spring.
Back to my kitchen.
Two tubes still stand proud. From the original prized lot of twelve.
A couple more ordered though. Now on their way to be delivered.
Enjoy before your nolen gur runs out !!