Even now as I sit in a cafe, eating day old scone and wishing the rain would stop, I appreciate the little blooms and the last of the winter flowers: small and pale in color, the deep red and purple winter leaves on otherwise green trees, and ground riddled with crumbling roses from bushes that had seen too much icy thunderstorms. It thundered here last night, and I could hear the neighbors jumping and laughing at the sound. Rosie has always loved the rain and chirped all evening until she fell asleep at the sound of droplets falling on the pavement and hitting my giant windows. Radiation clouds swooping overhead, earthquakes predicted for late next week, but at least I've escaped the perpetual storm of hurricane summers. The rain will subside soon enough and give way to sun and wind, and I can't wait to experience an East Bay spring.
