It's an incredible feeling, watching the spring rain drip down into the flowerbed. When I drive through town I see lilacs blooming, trees, and azaleas. I see tulips. I see an unbelievable amount of flowering shrubs and trees that I remember from my childhood and to which I cannot put a name.

The damp creeps into my knees and makes me stiff all over, and I don't care because I can see the green in the earth. Last spring it was the green that came over the fields, frosting them with mint icing before the gray of winter turned into the brown of another dry and dusty summer. Spring was marked with drifts of cotton in the parking lots. Late summer marked with tumbleweeds. All seasons dry.

Joke I've heard frequently lately... if you've got a tan, you've been somewhere else. People don't tan on the island, they rust.

Don't know. Might be I'll enjoy rusting for a change. We're all adaptable beings. I'm looking for the best in our life here. Let's go with that.