Spring Forward

Brooklyn is, to paraphrase e e cummings, mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful at the moment. It got up to 60 today, and people went even crazier than normal (myself included). Prospect Park was filled with wishful thinkers in shorts and t-shirts. A man roller-bladed by me while simultaneously talking on the phone. I found myself beaming at small children and waving at tiny dogs. Multicolored girls in swirling skirts drew giant dinosaurs and flowers on the sidewalks. Kids wandered around with dazed looks and mud-spattered knees.

It smells like sewage, standing water, dirt, and petrol. It's not overwhelmingly a bad smell, but you can tell that things are trying to dry themselves out. I had to have the reference librarian get a book out of storage for me, titled Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life (it's Roald Dahl's short stories, in case you thought it was something soppier) and he proceeded to sing me the song. I found a marble on the sidewalk--it's a bit cloudy, but with a shock of turquoise through it. I ate the first acceptable avocado I've had in Brooklyn.

The cars still skreetch their brakes and make me jump, and the sirens still blare, but it is sunny, so all is well.