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Last night the mottled sky of thin clouds and the breeze blown trees promised a pleasant day, and the promise was certainly kept. Walking along the shady street I caught the first whiff of spurge laurel yet this year. Daphne, as it is also called, is one of the most pleasing aromatic shrubs in the mountains, but quite elusive. You can be suddenly enveloped in a cloud of fragrance, or catch just the faintest scent on the air. A moment later, it vanishes. I think that it must be released in bursts. I must get a plant for my yard.

All afternoon, birds were chirping, and cats were sunning themselves on lawns and porches and rooftops. Bunches of little purple flowers are bursting though the grass in my back yard. But the sunset has lost its winter tinge of purple and has stretched a band of gold across the sky. I only hope that the cherry tree does not bloom too soon. I'd like to see a good crop this year.

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