Not much evidently. It's a crisp day interspersed with big wind gusts, heartbreaking bright, pale green all directions, and the explosion of red tulips at 23rd and Massachusetts St., the fields of purple clover, redbud (actually purple) at every edge, and the falling white blossoms of ornamental pears make it hard for me to keep my mind on anything. Of course the convergence of several in-person and on-the-phone meetings, helping my daughter figure out her housing situation in St. Paul, packets arriving from my students, and kitten all over me when I try to work tends to get the better of me too.
Spring fever does, at times unfortunately, really feel like a fever, but then there's another kind of spring fever, an enlightened mixture of ecstatic poetry, fatigue, big dreams that seems utterly attainable, more fatigue, chocolate as the only thing interesting to eat and a great attraction to pull weeds in a leaf-covered garden bed. That's what has overtaken me today, and it would be lunacy not to follow the call out to the backyard, chocolate energy bar (aka dinner) in hand while my mind flutters and crashes all around, and the colors brighten and deepen with their spring collage.
Sometimes it's enough not to hold anything in mind too tightly or too long.
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