“Wind-blown and rosy, my little March girl”

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March is when the year finds its rhythm and the days are warm and still, and new and old joys present themselves like simple gifts.

Claire and I ventured into the West Beach Surf Club one Sunday and a man (not Ziggy) played guitar
Old Mucker Trev took me for a spin to Strathalbyn in his 1971 Alfa Romeo
I saw this in our 99 year-old neighbour’s home, and then one accidentally fell…
One Saturday evening Claire and I hung out with Christie (she’s really hot)
Max turned eleven and had a party at the Beachouse and all played well
Visiting Steingarten Lookout in the southern Barossa we found these two glasses of wine!
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