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"Sprang" has Sprung
Mar. 11th, 2005 08:33 amYesterday's high was in the mid 70's and the day was filled with sunshine. A startling change from last week's wet and blustery weather. Since Saturday, my little corner of the bay has experienced the "lamb" portion of March with spring like weather.
Last night I had a rather nerve wracking session with my therapist and took a very long walk on the way home. There was no fog last night, which kept the evening temperature warm. The stars were out and the air was filled with the fragrance of urgently growing things. Signs of life are everywhere here.
The tulip trees have begun to shed their large pink and white flowers and now the deciduous leaves have unfurled. The leaves are not as dark, nor as glossy, as their cousin the Southern Magnolia, but it is a herald of springtime. Climbing roses are beginning to burst forth, Irises, more and more Cala Lilies are too. Blossoming fruit trees are shedding their blooms and their branches practically hum with green buds waiting to become leaves. The cherry-plum (which is neither a cherry or a plum, I'm given to understand) have already burst out with their dark red leaves and all over Berkeley, sidewalks are littered with the last of their mauve blossoms.
The best of all, as I walked last night, I walked past a Jasmine tree in full bloom. I stopped and buried my nose in the branches, inhaling the scent, caressing the blossoms and trying to shake my melancholy from earlier. It helped a great deal. Later that night, as I let the dork-dog drag me around several blocks in her hunt for new and unusual smells of a different kind, I passed down a quiet street where all you could smell was the scent of freshly cut grass.
I love this time of year. I seem to find myself awakening from a sense of dormancy along with the rest of the living things. And I am reminded, as the North East gets hammered once again by winter, how blessed I am to live in this area.
We won't discuss my allergies.
Really, we won't.
~ Red
Last night I had a rather nerve wracking session with my therapist and took a very long walk on the way home. There was no fog last night, which kept the evening temperature warm. The stars were out and the air was filled with the fragrance of urgently growing things. Signs of life are everywhere here.
The tulip trees have begun to shed their large pink and white flowers and now the deciduous leaves have unfurled. The leaves are not as dark, nor as glossy, as their cousin the Southern Magnolia, but it is a herald of springtime. Climbing roses are beginning to burst forth, Irises, more and more Cala Lilies are too. Blossoming fruit trees are shedding their blooms and their branches practically hum with green buds waiting to become leaves. The cherry-plum (which is neither a cherry or a plum, I'm given to understand) have already burst out with their dark red leaves and all over Berkeley, sidewalks are littered with the last of their mauve blossoms.
The best of all, as I walked last night, I walked past a Jasmine tree in full bloom. I stopped and buried my nose in the branches, inhaling the scent, caressing the blossoms and trying to shake my melancholy from earlier. It helped a great deal. Later that night, as I let the dork-dog drag me around several blocks in her hunt for new and unusual smells of a different kind, I passed down a quiet street where all you could smell was the scent of freshly cut grass.
I love this time of year. I seem to find myself awakening from a sense of dormancy along with the rest of the living things. And I am reminded, as the North East gets hammered once again by winter, how blessed I am to live in this area.
We won't discuss my allergies.
Really, we won't.
~ Red
