The Signs
Spring in Goodharts was magical. The most delicate flowers adorned every front garden and their sweet scent filled the air ─ hyacinths, daffodils, tulips, and lilies-of-the-valley. Later, when the sun turned more generous, the lilac bushes and magnolia shrubs together with the climbing morning glories conquered every small, white fence, embracing it with their fragile arms of white, pink, and purple flowers. Ferry was breathing every breeze of spring. Every ray of light, no matter how frail, was a new victory against the grey reign of the winter, a step closer to the much-beloved summer. The snow and cold were now a distant memory. The streets were full of happy people, loud children, and a pleasant buzzing in which people's voices and laughter tangled with birds' singing and insects whi
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