Dear Easter Bunny
I'm not sure whether it's you (or an assorted bunch of pixies) who have been pooping glitter all over my house.
(Did I capture a grainy glimpse of you the other day???)
But it is becoming clear that your arrival is imminent.
We paint eggs in pastel colours.
And make baskets to gather up said eggs (thank you for knowing better than to bring the chocolate variety to my house - because Grandparents do not - and that is quite enough chocolate).
We even have an Easter decoration or two sneaking in for the first time ever.
But I wonder: there is so much about your season that is spring-y.
I sense Easter would not be quite the same decorated/painted/depicted by the rusty oranges, yellows, browns of our actual surroundings.
I grapple with this (although to a lesser extent than I do with the snowy baubles of a 'traditional' Christmas).
And I simultaneously admire the pretty budding branches entwined into wreaths, the soft pastels shades and the fresh bobbing blooms of the northern hemisphere's response to your coming.
I am conflicted.