Coffee shop Monday

Atomic Bean Cafe, Central Square.

Reading about the social, political, and economic issues brought on by Hurricane Katrina. This year will be the 10th anniversary of the storm.

Emailing a student an article about the riots in response to police brutality in Baltimore, an issue he's talked about and seems intrigued by.

Contemplating what's next in my life, and how I can find time and passion for blogging again. Supposed to be planning and grading, now in our 3rd to last week of school. Fantasizing about coming to this same cafe without a load of papers to give feedback on, to sit and work away on articles, curriculum plans, maybe a novel. And looking forward to working on garden curriculum for Somerville Public Schools this summer through the Urban Agriculture Ambassadorship I am currently completing, thanks to our mayor.

In the meantime, lately, I've been taking walks to soak up all the spring things that are happening.

New lime green leaves popping out of dark ones on rhododendron shrubs. People stopping to smell white britches-shaped flowers on the Lowell Street bridge. Finding Somerville's very own Ponte Vecchio with its 5 "love locks" hanging from the fence of the Cedar Street bridge. Curious-looking rock on the side of the new part of the bike path, dense, dark rock with flaky layers. Is it sedimentary, which is supposed to be unusual here? Or is it metamorphic shale?

Also on Cedar Street, I've been seeing a woman painting a mural that looks like a big branching tree on the circular pavement. The other day, 3 people stopped by, seeming to be meeting the artist for the first time, and began helping with the project. A little googling helped me to find out the project is being funded by Somerville Arts Council and led by artist Crystal Burney. She's inviting community members to help on two consecutive Saturday mornings in June, including this coming Saturday. Maybe I'll join.

Sunlight and rain

Being in Somerville after this winter feels like a brand new experience. Spring comes every year, yes, but not like this, not for me. Describing it as coming out of hibernation is an understatement. It is more like being born again. Learning how to walk again, without heavy boots. And how to interact with the world outside your doors again.

We had some hot days in May, reaching the mid-90s at times. And then this week, the rain finally came. As I walked home from yoga on Monday evening, I admired the beauty of the wet seeds and leaves stuck to the bike path. Everything was being washed and hydrated.

After three days, the sun returned, but not the heat. There's an autumn-like crispness in the air. The difference though is the amazing bounding up of everything green, pink, and purple, like these peonies on my street. My mom's favorite flower.