1999 march 09

early signs of spring

spring must be on its way since the window washers nearly gave me a heart attack at the office yesterday.

odd phrase that, gave me a heart attack, as if it were some sort of gift. anyhow, it is just not natural to be sitting in a 14th floor office and suddenly see a pair of legs swing by your window. if it didn't involve washing windows, it would be a pretty cool job, making like spiderman up and down all the high rises in the city. but, as it does involve window washing, the guild of window washers will have to live without me.

there have been other signs of spring though, the sort that make me much happier than clean windows. this weekend, gene and i jumped in the car and headed for the beach. from the time i was 12 until i was 21 i lived within five minutes of beaches and there are days i truly miss it. i absolutely adore the feel of sand between my toes, love running into the surf before diving headlong into the fray, i even like the sand that gets trapped in my bathing suit. we now live more than five minutes away, more like two hours, but it is still close enough for a weekend drive.

along the way we saw the first fluorescent greens of budding trees, flocks of little frantic black birds and one brilliant patch of daffodils. no one else had flowers like this place so i think they somehow cheated, but i'm not complaining as it made me the happiest girl ever. the only thing better would have been hyacinths; the smell of hyacinths is enough to make me think i've been transported to a world that is full of nothing but good. not even the smell of fresh baked brownies can do that.

once we got to the beach we went for a long walk then came back to the car and flew a kite for a while. rather a coup, as i can almost never get the bloody things to stay in the air. makes me feel like charlie brown except my kites never get eaten by trees, they just take nosedive after nosedive into the ground. thank heavens for the wonder of plastic; i cannot tell you how many balsa wood kites i killed as a child.

sprung, claire