The three fine folks who make up We Were Evergreen can't help but make us feel as if we've just come upon one or all of the following:
A big pot of honey and some faucet with warm water with which we can wash the stickiness off when we're through.
A patch of untouched, fresh strawberries that are so red and so ripe that they make your eyes pop.
A shower that you've been craving for days.
That one hand you've been wanting to hold for months and months.
The person attached to that hand, looking at you with a twinkle in their eyes for the first time ever.
A day without one single obligation or responsibility and there's the fireplace and there's a fresh pot of coffee and there's the book that you've been meaning to get to.
A new litter of bunnies who need a home, one that you're planning on giving them.
A fresh snow, one that doesn't need to be shoveled, just admired.
Your best friend surprising you at your door after not seeing them for months.
A lost love, regained or returned.
A great hug.
A blinding display of color.
A heartbreakingly green lawn.
A horse galloping wildly, without a rider.
The sweet gaze of a ghost.
A better kiss than hug.