Caveat Emptor

I'm not usually inclined to talk about religion. I feel like I have a "don't ask don't tell" policy toward the whole issue. However, a new church is opening up near my workplace, and the pastor and his parish have been coming in daily, filling up the dining room. It's not bad, exactly, but there are a few niggling issues for me. The women are very few, all mothers, all very soft-spoken.  The men all sit together, with the male children, the women and girls in a different area. I realize this is a very common practice, I'm not admonishing it, I'm just kind of wary of it. The pastor is a friendly enough man, as are all the others, but they are also constantly handing me flyers for their church, despite me saying, ah, I've gotten three of these already..

That Frisson

This is my favorite time of year - late April, early May. The days are stretching out a bit, so I have some daylight left on my walk home from work. People have decided it's warm enough to wear impossibly tiny shorts and plant fully bloomed tulips, like a forced smile of bright red, yellow and sandals. This is New England, however, and I think they've jumped the gun a bit, as they fade under the first storm that rolls across. The trees are still cautious, the leaf buds tightly wrapped, fuzzy little grey-green fists on the naked branches. Patches of ground are thick with what I can only assume are crocus, just spikes of green, thick as grass in a child's drawing. The air is still cool, even cold at points, and everything just seems on the verge. It's just waiting, testing, preparing, and there is the excitement of possibility.