first colors of spring

It was a nasty, ugly morning. When I got up (late) I went out and sat on the front porch to put on my shoes. The clouds were ominous, wind was whipping the bare trees, the world was shades of gray. Will came riding down the street and into the driveway on his scooter and yelled to me, “hi dad, the weather is ghastly, huh?”
At noon I had to drive Molly downtown for “Sleeping Beauty” rehearsal. The sky was beginning to clear. On the way back home, it had become a beautiful late winter day. About a half-hour later I drove Will to a friend’s house and saw a tulip tree had exploded into full color against the shades of gray backdrop and the blue sky.
I came home, got my bike out and rode off to enjoy the sunshine. Farming Creek Road, I bank around a corner and there is a huge purple field littered with tiny black and white goats. By the time I got home, the Bradford Pear buds had exploded and my black helmet was covered with the green dust of pine pollen.
At 6:30 I drove back downtown to get Molly. The sky over the lake was a kaleidoscope and the full moon was rising on the other horizon as large as Lyle Lovett’s band, home state, hair and ex-wife’s smile. The space between, a gradient flecked with stars.
The night is cool, Spirit is in the air with a paint brush and there is a fire on the deck. Red, orange, yellow, blue, flickering flames. Can you imagine if I weren’t color blind? How can you guys contain yourselves?
Ten o’clock and all is well.