Rays

It is promising.  The ground is not wet with new prespitation and the sun is peeking through the somewhat cloudless sky. Swaths of sunlight sweep the lawn.  Maybe today, the small town shopkeepers will get a respite from mudslides and the hapless homeowners with red and yellow tagged houses will get some stability.  California is done (?) with the drench.

Dooms Day?

I don't believe in 2012 but the quick succession of natural disasters around the rim of fire is alarming.  Before the world can recover from one, the next strikes.  From Christchurch to Sendai to northeast Myanmar.  Is this a precusor to something more ominous?  Then a reality check.  Earthquakes are almost a daily occurrence - there is one just about everyday somewhere in the world.

And here in California, weeks of almost constant rain is wreaking havoc up and down the state.  Rock slides that cut off homes in the hills, mud slides and soil movements that render homes unsafe, trees that come crashing down on roofs, water from broken pipes cascading down hillsides and turning into mini tsunamis causing damages to shops unlucky enough to be in its path, and heavy snow shutting off major highways.  Californians are now officially weather weary.

Spring is eluding us.

Despair

I never thought I would see the day when my flesh and blood would use "f" on me.

Winter Wither

Last day of winter.  At long last.

Much rain, lots of high wind.  The cherry blossoms have all but faded leaving behnd the leaves that will soon enough start carpeting the land with patches of red that need to be blown and swept and carted out for the trashman.

Thank the heavens for the roses for they are starting to cheer us with their blooms.

It had been a hard winter personally.  Grappling with new and unfamiliar work responsibilities, coming to terms with new reporting structures, looking ahead to mediocrity.  Gotta wrap my head around what is given and give up that which can only create more unrest in the mind and soul.  Just deal with it.

The boy just turned 16 and it was un-nerving to hear him moan the loss of childhood.  At the ripe old age of 16 while my horizon is much more of a slipoery slope of sag and a haggardness staring back daily in the mirror.  I would gladly trade.  He spends his days playing Legend of the Legions when his peers back home would be sweating over "O".  He must find his own level and soon.  The passage of time is relentless and gentle persuasion has borne little.  One can only hope.

Spring, I pray, will lift the spirit and bring warmth into a body worn down by the months of cold.  Yes, it will.  It must.