I was rather sad. 

The Spring has sprung.  I live in the oldest part of Philadelphia:  all red brick, mortar and Macadam. 

 

I would normally be in our parks taking in the Spring.  The spirea are about to bloom.

 

 

Bridal wreath spirea.  Winterthur, Delaware.  Late March every year.

 

 

 

I have cracked open a window and am sitting at it.  With a book.  Waiting for the great virus-god to pass.

 

 

 

As below

 

 

 

As below

 

 

 

I feel much better for the sun and a slight breath of wind.  What little I can see and smell. 

With the memory of the spirea, of course, about to bloom. There where I used to sit with a book at this time in other years.

 

 

As above

 

 

 

Les Persiennes (The Venetian Blinds), Spring 1919, oil on canvas. 

Henri Matisse, 1869-1954, French.  Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia