“The cherry trees are sending down their delicate pink petals like a snow flurry onto the pavement. The Spring breeze plays lightly with them, swirling these little beauties like a glass of fine wine. Each car that swishes by adds its own patterns to the display, stirring them into a spiraling cloud of color.
I stand beneath the boughs and feel the petals brushing my cheeks as they slowly descend. Like butterfly kisses, or the ethereal touch of a pleasant thought. In the silence between the traffic and the neighborhood dogs, I can almost hear the music they make. A soft plucking of a lap harp, or the sensual notes of a saxophone would harmonize nicely. Perhaps a classical piano perched right there on the lawn, being showered in the rain of blossoms as the notes twine around each falling pink beauty.
Taking off my boots to feel their soft caress on my toes that have been wrapped in woolen winter layers for far too long, I giggle like a small child who discovers this joy for the first time. If I were to see an inviting puddle lurking nearby, you can bet I would be dancing in that one too, and I would surely embarrass the hell out of my working partner.
You just can’t take a tree hugging mountain girl to the city and expect her to hide the animal under her skin. The Tiger lurks always just beneath my gaze, but today it is a kitten with a ball of yarn… I just want to play with all the pretty floating things.”