Blossoms

Spring has sprung in the East. Driving in from West Virginia, the medians on the highway were filled with huge beds of daffodils. Pansies and tulips are everywhere. The trees are all in blossom – star magnolias, pear, cherry, dogwood, and weeping cherry are all bursts of pink and white. The forsythia is a blaze of sunny yellow hedges.

Of course, along with all the color is all the pollen. According to weather.com the allergy index is high – though my sore and red nose did not need the internet to figure this out. I can see a coating of it on the roofs and windshields of the cars as they sit in the driveway (Easterners aren’t that big on garages.) If you look up at the sky and the angle of the sun is just right, you can see it floating in the air. Perhaps my desire for an ‘extended Spring’ was less than well-thought through, at least where my nose is concerned.

The weather is warm – unseasonably warm, in fact. The 93F temperature yesterday broke a record high by 7 degrees. They’re forecasting 88F today. Average temperatures for this time of year run in the mid-60’s.

I did the ‘tourist thing’ on Monday. I took the Metro into town, got off at Smithsonian, and walked over to the Tidal Basin. Even if I hadn’t known which way to go, it would have been easy enough to find. Just follow the crowds. I was not alone in enjoying the views. But this tourist experience was different than many. It was slow. People took their time. They strolled. They stopped every few feet to gaze at the scenery from a different perspective. They took photos. They stopped and brought a branch close to their face and smelled. There was no guide – no audio tour. There was no 3x5 note identifying the artist or the name of the work. There was no urge to rush through this gallery to reach the next. There were the trees and the water. To say the least, it was stunning.

Spring is that time which reminds us that all things are possible. There is re-birth. There is growth. Things are bright and clean. There is the song of dozens of birds outside the windows, and it continues throughout the day. There is the smell of fresh-cut grass wafting in from across the street. There is a bee bumping at the window screen, trying to get in. There is promise in the air.