Winter, brutal and unforgiving, is passing. 
The infant bud lies dormant on the branch, sheltering from the frigid air. Long desired warmth drifts lazily towards the gnarled limbs. Clotted sap thins. Tiny blooms grudgingly shiver awake.
Delicate and new, the blossom shyly spreads. "The Plum Blossom and the Fertile Breath" scurries back into the shop today, bringing the total up to 8.  Got a bunch still to go.  Check it out by clicking through on the profile page
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