It’s still so beautiful outside, even if it’s late in the night.  My windows are up, the rooms are breathing with fresh air.  I love the sound of the traffic crossing my apartment building, both the vehicles and the human traffic, the cars speeding by, the human voices.  Today I heard the most lovely voice singing a gospel song and when I went to the window saw a black mother pushing a baby in a pram down the sidewalk.  A pram!  I don’t know when I last saw one of those, especially around here.  She was singing as she pushed the pram, but she wasn’t singing to the baby in it.  Her head was turned up toward the sky.  To me that felt more like church than any church I’ve ever been in.  I was glad the light had changed, too, from early dark of winter to that late evening dark honey light of spring that seems to drip over everything before letting night take over.  All day long I couldn’t do anything but wander around– my apartment, the streets–thinking about and reviewing memories and futures.  That’s how I know spring has finally arrived.

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