Late winter stirs memories and quiet longings, the garden just beyond these rain-dotted panes brimming with the hush of what’s yet to bloom. This morning, I find comfort in small rituals, a vase of fresh peonies, the warmth of a gentle fire, and that familiar pause at my desk as rain softens the world outside. Sometimes, the deepest contentment is found here, between seasons, in the company of cherished recollections and the promise of new beginnings.