OF SNOW IN A RAINSTORM

4.4.2000

    Yesterday was sunny. Achingly beautiful. Everything is blooming. Walking from my car to the MAX stop by my house I strolled through the dozens of flowering trees dotting the area. I tried to go slowly. How strange to find such incandescent beauty living with public transportation. Is it wrong to enjoy the trees so much when they are planted in such an orderly manner, exactly the same height, meant specifically to enhance this space and make it seem more special than it really is? It feels like cheating.

    This morning, it was overcast. No wind. The overstuffed trees, dripping with pink petals, stood silently against the grey. They hushed everyone walking by. I felt like an intruder. I tried not to stare.

    This afternoon it began coming down hard. Big, fat raindrops splatted all over the sidewalk. I bought a lunch at Great Harvest after going to the gym and decided to wait for the MAX at the stop right outside. I could have walked back to work but the rain was hitting the trees, white this time, and knocking off petals — snow in a rainstorm. I couldn't stop staring.

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