I was right about the lilies blooming while I slept yesterday. The number open just about doubled in eight hours. More will open today, though perhaps not quite so many. There were fewer and fewer stars visible as the night passed. A haze has formed which may turn to clouds. There might even be a bit of rain, I suppose. It will wash the pollen from the air for awhile, but it probably won't get too cold, so I'll be able to leave the windows open without the risk of sneezing myself deaf. What I'd most like to do, though, is go somewhere. Spring fever is giving me cabin fever. Even if it rains, it's still going to be too nice an afternoon to be stuck in this house. Can't get away, though. Stuff to do, old people to look after. I'll probably end up doing something like making random Google image searches and finding things like the web sites of Greek foundries. Such things are either what keeps me from going crazy, or evidence that it's too late. Oh, it's too late.
All afternoon, clouds formed and dissolved, the mercurial day changing mood again and again. My personal favorite arrived about an hour before sunset, when the western sky took on a decidedly stormy appearance and a fresh breeze woke the pines, while white, fluffy clouds decorated the bright blue east where a hawk soared above the green woodlands. It's definitely April. A bit of humidity has returned to the air, which makes me feel considerably better than I felt yesterday, and the night sky is now a patchwork of dark, moving forms and swaths of glittering stars, further lifting my mood. It smells damp and woody and grassy outside, and there is an occasional hint of something blooming that emits a sharp sweetness. I'm reminded that it is only two months until the jasmine blooms. I'm going out to inhale now. This is a night air that deserves better than to be filtered through window screens.