I spent all yesterday trying to think of something pretty to say about how the sight of buds on the trees that line 6th Avenue and 10th Street on my way to the Tea Lounge to get some coffee and meet Portia (somewhat a perfect Sunday, I think) just filled me with joy.
Indescribable joy.
I know that there are people who look out of their windows and see rolling hills and verdant fields and trees everywhere; I do not know if they treasure this evidence of Spring as much as NYers do.
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