Seasons.

Track meets are in full swing. The fig trees are covered with little green buds and tiny leaves that look hopeful to me. The oak tree in the backyard is covered with tiny little leaves, the size of a squirrel's ear? Tiny threads of baby leeks look a bit more erect. Sunflowers are sprouting up everywhere. The zinnia seeds are just now sprouting. Green washes over trees down the street. Eggs galore come from the clucking hens.

Makes me want to find a cherry blossom tree, take a bento box, and spread a picnic and write silly haiku.

Makes me think matzoh ball soup is in our near future. And Easter vigil. And lamb cake.

Makes me think girls will be dressing in pretty pastels and whatever cold, bitter vestiges of winter that remain will be blown away by powerful winds, sweeping through the region, carrying us into summer and sunburns and short-sleeves.