Our cherry tree is about to bloom. The buds are still wound, with only the tips showing any signs of pink.
Which means that it is pollen season here. Topologically, every flower in the valley drops its pollen in Eugene. I'll know it's really bad when I have to run the windshield wipers to clean all the plant reproductive matter off of the car in order to drive (I believe that's the pines' fault).
In the mean time, I'm enjoying the grape hyacinth, jonquils, and daffodils. The roses are putting out small red-brown leaves, and the iris swords are pushing upward; they won't flower for about four more weeks.
It's still a little early for writing at Café John. Showers will be common until mid June, and writing outside still requires a jacket, blanket and fingerless gloves (I get cold!). The new gazing globe is near-by, and I amuse myself by looking at the sky's reflection and tracking the clouds.
And, yes; the bugs came out -- but they weren't mosquitoes.