A Riot of Color

The sun is cooling her heels just now,  set on getting to Hong Kong soon.  I'm on the couch, halfway between vertical and horizontal, debating the merits of staying alert vs draping my carcass over a few pillows and watching TV the rest of the night.  I had a brief idea about getting up and over to Asilomar to wave good-bye to the sun, but, no I'm not going to.  I'll send an email and wish her well.

I saw some surreal color down in my neighbor's yards on my way home today and stopped for a few shots of magenta and gold.  Gorgeous.  Spring is a riot of color, assaulting my eyes at every turn, and I love it.  Mostly, there is a heavy green fullness to the oaks on every hill this year, after the many showers that have soaked way down to the deepest roots of the trees.

It makes it very hard to think of going to work and sitting indoors for eight hours.  Shouldn't I be out in the world instead of locked inside?  Is that what's best for us all?  I think I am always a better version of myself if I can fill my lungs with fresh air and walk for miles out in the world, not cooped inside.  It's a conflict that no one of us has solved for good in any of our modern lives.