Sunday was another pleasant day, and I wore my green tie for Saint Patrick’s Day when I went to the farmers’ market and afterward to the supermarket; it’s a Henry George Sesquicentennial tie, which means that I have now owned it for more than half my life ( the Sesquicentennial was in 1989). But I digress. While I’m digressing, I might mention that I saw a basset hound at the farmers’ market, and she seemed interested in greeting me, but I was carrying bags, and then she got distracted by something else; after that, her humans departed with her.
But this post was to be about cherry blossoms. There are more of them, and in particular, the trees on my own street, just a hundred paces or so south from my building, are displaying a magnificent mass of flowers; they were a little slower to bloom than some other trees in the neighborhood.
But this post was to be about cherry blossoms. There are more of them, and in particular, the trees on my own street, just a hundred paces or so south from my building, are displaying a magnificent mass of flowers; they were a little slower to bloom than some other trees in the neighborhood.