Gathering pace.

There are magnolia blossoms in Central Park. Some of them are still in their leaves, soft and fuzzy, ready and waiting. Some are almost ready, waiting just a bit longer for a few more days until the sun comes out and stays around. And some came out too soon, too eager to get out and start things ahead of time - they're battered and bruised, white petals hanging limp. But they're still proud to look at, to see something not ready to wait and try to bring springtime along with it. They knew it was time to come out even if everything else didn't.

Seeing them today makes it a different sort of waiting now. I'm not waiting for spring: I know it's arrived, and it's on the trees in Central Park. Waiting for everthing else to catch up - well, now I've got something to look forward to.