Spring has come; vibrant hues emerge from dark layers of dreary winter browns. I am mesmerized by the brilliance of gold that shimmers from the forsythia swaying in the spring winds. The riotous color celebrates new life along the muddy roads, pale green pasture and low stone ledges. My idea of "place" has moved from literal during COVID to metaphorical. This seems for me, a sign of maturing as an artist. It has uncovered some layers within.