The Eagle

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;

Close to the sun in lonely lands,

Ringed with the azure world, he stands.


The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;

He watches from his mountain walls,

And like a thunderbolt he falls.  —  by Lord Alfred Tennyson



A small speckled visitor

wearing crimson cape,

brighter than a cherry,

smaller than a grape.

A polka-dotted someone

walking on my wall,

a black-hooded lady

                                                 in a scarlet shawl.      —  by Joan Walsh Anglund


Image      With Spring just around the corner, I decided to post a picture of the bunny we made a couple of years ago.  Our painted pavers have improved over the past two years.  Now, my husband grinds down the bump (on top of the head) and our son washes off the grinding dust before he paints with primer. Oh, we have a lettering template, too! So the next time we make a bunny, the paver will look better.

Welcome (almost) Spring!