It was warm yesterday. I was glad to spend the morning with my good friends on a light-hearted ride, lots of laughter, sunshine, and finally a long visit on a deck. I wasn't able to see the rest of the day because afternoon time was so dazing that I walked in my sleep throughout it. I found a spell of energy much later and went out with my girlfriends. I wore a gray hat, the kind that looks like it's from the 1940's period, something a woman would wear to the train station when she's saying goodbye to someone special. This morning is flirting with spring but, there's a crispness in the air. There aren't quite blossoms all over the place yet. Still dry and damp at the same time, the trees are not yet warm and decorated, no signs of new growth, just yet.

I closed my eyes and the burnt orange splotches bloomed themselves into poppies. Poppies behind my eyes - can't ask for much more on a gray morning.

Maybe i'll get work done on the bike today. Right now I feel like the air has been punched out of my stomach. Maybe I'll even go to yoga tonight. Hopefully. Unlikely. I can hope, though, can't I? Losing hope is an unpleasant idea.



Tell me, from where you're sitting now, when you look out of your window, what do you see? I see a gray wall of cinderblocks, from the top of the ledge to the bottom of the blinds.