March 19th, 2007



The weather service is saying there's a chance of light rain Tuesday. I'd be pleased to see it, but I won't hold my breath. What clouds there were today were less apparent than the blossoms now bursting from trees all over the neighborhood. On the far side of the apple orchard are a couple of acres of small trees which I suspect to be peaches (they're too far from the streets for me to get a good look) and these are now a rumpled blanket of pale purple, glowing in the afternoon light.

Along the block I see small explosions of darker purple, of pink, and of white. The young oak leaves have emerged in profusion just since last week, and now fleck patches of the blue sky with pale, translucent green which also tints the shadows they cast. My camellia bush crowds my window with fat, red blooms and the mulberry tree is growing its crop of plush green blossoms like small caterpillars. The only thing not looking lively is the moss on the tree trunks, now brown and dry, the water which had provided all its recent luxuriance evaporated into the ever-warmer air. The arrival of the equinox will be anticlimatic.