Sunday, March 27, 2011
Spring 2011 - Cherry Blossoms
Cherry Blossoms and a Zebra-striped Camel in San Mateo, CA.
The annual Cherry Blossom Festival began in the nation's capital on Saturday. The pictures in Washington Post made me look out of the window. The flowering cherry tree in the neighbor's front yard is now bare of the blossoms; they did not survive the rain storms of the past two weeks. Here are pictures that I took more than a month ago when the blossoms were at their best.
Parrott Ave, San Mateo, CA, #1
© Musafir
Parrott Ave, San Mateo, CA, #2
© Musafir
Parrott Ave/Tournament Dr, San Mateo, CA
© Musafir
Parrott Ave, San Mateo, CA
© Musafir
The Zebra-striped Camel
Made of fiber-glass or some such material, it makes some motorists and passers by stop and take a look. When I took the picture it was still dressed up for Christmas.
Parrott Ave, San Mateo, CA
© Musafir
A week past Spring equinox, the weather still feels wintry. Unusual. We have had enough rains to fill the reservoirs and snow packs in the Sierras are at record levels. There is no longer threat of drought during summer. There were glimpses of blue sky earlier this morning. Now, nearing 11:00 A.M. the sky is a dull gray. Forecast for next week, however, promises warmer, sunny days. It would feel good to walk in the woods and look for emerging wild flowers.
A Rainy Day Poem by William P. Haynes
I wish I had a poem for a rainy day
when the raindrops pelt against the metal
of the AC and the hum of a car's engine is
the only sound breaking the day's silence.
I should be dreaming of sleep or sleeping with
dreams or writing to Olga wondering what types
of stuffed animals she collects.
Maybe rainy days are only wistful things for dreamers
and poets? Maybe I need a Diner in my life and a highway
to leave it near. Life can be mysterious like a sudden phonecall
when you're thinking if Russia is closer than Mars and if parts of
Canada are really south of the United States?
I wish I had a poem that was as blue as your eyes
or as quiet as a raindrop
If not I'm going to have to invent one.
© William P Haynes
when the raindrops pelt against the metal
of the AC and the hum of a car's engine is
the only sound breaking the day's silence.
I should be dreaming of sleep or sleeping with
dreams or writing to Olga wondering what types
of stuffed animals she collects.
Maybe rainy days are only wistful things for dreamers
and poets? Maybe I need a Diner in my life and a highway
to leave it near. Life can be mysterious like a sudden phonecall
when you're thinking if Russia is closer than Mars and if parts of
Canada are really south of the United States?
I wish I had a poem that was as blue as your eyes
or as quiet as a raindrop
If not I'm going to have to invent one.
© William P Haynes
*****
