Over 5-1/2 hours more light since the winter solstice, now. These are the longest days. Days of sun and days of rain.
The spring leaves have grown lush and full, the summer canopy, arching over the streets. Lilacs are blooming, and there are buds on the peonies.
This is the season of irises. They come in a wide variety of colors, from deep purple to delicate tints of blue and peach. Is it almost a dream, the sweep of late-spring colors, the irises in the dappled sunlight, the bleeding hearts and columbines blooming under the trees.
This changing weather–Cool and rainy, yesterday. Wet grass, and wet socks. Jackets one day, t-shirts the next. Furnace coming on overnight. Then one morning and opening windows. Then, turn on the air-conditioning.
The first heat wave of the season, and people were out everywhere, celebrating like the virus was over. Celebrating like peace in Ukraine. Celebrating like there’s no such things as hate crimes or war crimes, or the crisis of climate change. Or maybe these cares were forgotten, just for a moment.
Was it a dream? What color were the iris flowers?