that first day that really feels like spring. husband packing my lunch. this detail of our first married spring: my long work hours and meeting for a glass of cabernet at that cafe we love on 83rd street as the sun dips low and the neighborhood stirs with the dinner hour. spending april reading my way through joan didion's canon. may, too. hearing, really listening to, the whispered lessons of the cherry blossoms: lullabies of patience and seasons and blooming in perfect time.