Update
There are long stretches of winter and summer when you can hardly tell the days one from another. All the world is brown, or all the world is white, this day is like tomorrow and it just goes on and on.
Spring isn't like that. Each day has new beauties, specific to itself, which will fade by tomorrow to be replaced by another kind of loveliness. Cherry blossoms at their glorious peak yesterday morning began to cast away their petals in the late afternoon, the beginnings of what will be a white carpet on the sidewalks and streets tomorrow or the next day. Leaf buds, barely perceived, which seemed to envelop bare branches in a green kind of haze, open up into fresh tiny green leaves, then mature into something more stable. One day you have an ordinary patch of grass--next day you have a lawn covered in white and purple violets and golden dandelions.
It's always true that one day of your life is unique in itself and you will never see its like again. But the illusion of sameness can be strong. This time of year, if you're willing to pay attention, the illusion is stripped away. Open your senses and you are always rewarded with something new.
So anyway, yesterday I started out feeling like a bundle of exposed nerves, in a not entirely unpleasant way. Went for a long walk (didn't go quite to the DC line, but only because I got turned around in a traffic circle and figured I may as well keep going in the new direction), enjoying the sights of the cherry trees and bradford pears and more bradford pears, as well as flowers and chirping birds and people hanging out in their neighborhoods on a sunny and warm spring day. Unfortunately by the end of the day I was feeling overexposed and wished my nerves would stop being so exquisitely sensitive when I felt like I was developing a sunburn.
Today, went walking in a different direction, not so far as yesterday. Between yesterday and today, I traipsed through urban areas and wooded paths; crossed streams and rivers (okay, one branch of one river); admired big houses in nice neighborhoods, little houses in friendly neighborhoods, and ugly apartment buildings I can be happy not to live in; and wandered into a few buildings to do the typical boring errands. Squirrels, dogs, small children, and a Birman cat have crossed my path. Man, am I tired.
I finally found some of the Darth Mix Dark Chocolate M&Ms today, so maybe those will help to fuel tomorrow's enjoyment of tomorrow's new beauties.
Spring isn't like that. Each day has new beauties, specific to itself, which will fade by tomorrow to be replaced by another kind of loveliness. Cherry blossoms at their glorious peak yesterday morning began to cast away their petals in the late afternoon, the beginnings of what will be a white carpet on the sidewalks and streets tomorrow or the next day. Leaf buds, barely perceived, which seemed to envelop bare branches in a green kind of haze, open up into fresh tiny green leaves, then mature into something more stable. One day you have an ordinary patch of grass--next day you have a lawn covered in white and purple violets and golden dandelions.
It's always true that one day of your life is unique in itself and you will never see its like again. But the illusion of sameness can be strong. This time of year, if you're willing to pay attention, the illusion is stripped away. Open your senses and you are always rewarded with something new.
So anyway, yesterday I started out feeling like a bundle of exposed nerves, in a not entirely unpleasant way. Went for a long walk (didn't go quite to the DC line, but only because I got turned around in a traffic circle and figured I may as well keep going in the new direction), enjoying the sights of the cherry trees and bradford pears and more bradford pears, as well as flowers and chirping birds and people hanging out in their neighborhoods on a sunny and warm spring day. Unfortunately by the end of the day I was feeling overexposed and wished my nerves would stop being so exquisitely sensitive when I felt like I was developing a sunburn.
Today, went walking in a different direction, not so far as yesterday. Between yesterday and today, I traipsed through urban areas and wooded paths; crossed streams and rivers (okay, one branch of one river); admired big houses in nice neighborhoods, little houses in friendly neighborhoods, and ugly apartment buildings I can be happy not to live in; and wandered into a few buildings to do the typical boring errands. Squirrels, dogs, small children, and a Birman cat have crossed my path. Man, am I tired.
I finally found some of the Darth Mix Dark Chocolate M&Ms today, so maybe those will help to fuel tomorrow's enjoyment of tomorrow's new beauties.