It was foggier than I expected when I left for work this morning. Even though I have not yet switched from my winter scent to my summer scent, I have stopped wearing my coat. Most mornings, I have the heat on in the car, and in the afternoons, I have the windows down. This is spring in California.

It’s been a beautiful spring. Ever since the cherry blossoms made their billowy pink appearance in February, it’s been a riot of bloom and blossom everywhere, from creamy apple and pear blossoms to blazing California poppies and shy wild irises. Even the orchid finally bloomed after months of being in bud, though it is less showy this year than in years past.

I have really been enjoying spring this year. I am beginning to wonder if it might be my favorite season now. When I lived back east, fall was always my favorite, signaling an end to the hot, humid horror of summer with crisp air and woodsmoke and the brilliance of the changing leaves. But here, spring signals the end of winter darkness, the return of light and the beauty of flowers everywhere, bees buzzing and birds singing. It feels like hope.

A YEAR AGO: Tales from the ER.

FIVE YEARS AGO: Changeable weather.

TEN YEARS AGO: A visit to the City.

FIFTEEN YEARS AGO: My own campy film festival.

TWENTY YEARS AGO: A movie at the local movie house! Those were the days!

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