Praise then darkness, and creation unfinished

cattitude and I went for a pleasant long walk in Inwood Hill Park yesterday. He spotted lots of birds, most of which I couldn't find when he mentioned them--but I saw orioles and catbirds and of course lots of robins in the woods. Almost everything was in bloom--the lilac at the top of the hill, horse chestnut and red buckeye (had to look that up) and wisteria, dandelions galore and herb Robert (again, from the book--I could tell it was of the geranium clan, but not the details), columbine, two or three vagrant late forsythia blossoms, violets both purple and white. Black cherry soon. The parks department seems to have planted quite a few of those, and tulip trees; I'll miss the mulberries they've removed, but at least the birds won't go hungry. (They're trying to remove non-native species.)

We walked, and enjoyed the sunlight, and it was very good to be out there with him, and up in the hills, and basically feeling better. I got a "you're tired now" signal from my body when we were about half a block from home--either ridiculously lucky timing, or my body concluding that it was safe to go thud now. So I did: home, tea, tree and flower books, and rest. I'd taken a light jacket with me, but it spent the entire walk tied around my waist.

Today looks less appealing; we'll probably not go out as much, but there's a stroll up 218th Street to look at and sniff flowers planned.