The sun is shining, a side yard lilac bush is in bloom. When its Lilliputian flowers dance over to my back stoop, I can’t help but sense they’re carrying an early conception of chimera. As it stands, every idea I’ve pursued at length – plans snared to homes built to projects born to school proposed – has been hatched in the spring.
Generous lilacs, they are.
Really, it’s just that my brain is as seasonal as they come. Last winter, and every winter before, the pattern emerges: I cannot bake, I want to quit, I have nothing to make, not another cake.
Wait until April, Martin says while we are soaking in the tub, and he is always right.
In April, what with the remote work and home schooling, it is difficult to shut up.
