Spring

The first wisteria sighting always surprises me. During the winter I grow accustomed to bare branches. Yesterday was chilly, and by the end of the walk I was ready to go home. I turned a last familiar corner, and there this blossom was. The first. Last night I had a dream of some beautiful women whose dresses were composed of one color and white (one was red and white, another blue and white, etc.) The patterns were very geometrical and orderly; the dresses were well made. I thought, "How will they ever accept change when the patterns begin to break apart?" A man in the dream nonchantly said, "Love will take care of that."