There were trees blossoming everywhere tonight. The sun was warm and golden. The scents of spring are in the air. We have another storm rolling down on us this weekend, with the promise of wind and rain and perhaps even some thunder. (Thunder is a rarity here in the San Francisco bay area.) Tomorrow of course is the first day of spring. I wandered through the day and here and there caught glimpses of it.
It is in the warm sun that caresses the skin through the cool breezes. It is in the white flowers of the trees. It is in the star jasmine blooming everywhere. It is in the sound of kids playing soccer in the courtyard of the apartment complex. It is in a lazy rambling walk, listening to Madeleine Peyroux on the iPod. It is in the clean breeze floating through the apartment. It is in the strangers in the parking lot of the grocery store trying to tie the kayak down on the roof of their Honda. It is in the flock of high school kids in white t-shirts and black shorts running through the neighborhood. It is in the old African ladies standing in front of the building, gossiping, who smile and wave as I pull into the parking lot. I love it.
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