Life Is Good

While Harlan and I were away last week, the iris started blooming, the bush I don’t know the name of burst into tiny purple flowers, and another peony popped out of the ground, making a total of seven.

As I sit here this morning in my warm bed, the sun diffuses light over the hills and through the trees. A gambel quail sits on the fence. Our precious white puppy is asleep on my lap.

Life is good, and all is well.

You write or draw it: What makes life good for you?