These are the goalpost trees. Nice of someone to not just cut the things down. In the week I was in Mexico all the trees blushed green. The sight of them and the cool but not cold, partly sunny/partly rainy days have evoked a suprise attack of nostalgia in me. Nothing particular comes to mind, simply a sense of this season when I was a teenager and a young adult. I get flashes of walking home from school or crossing the college green and the pervasive sense of anticipation that accompanied me back then.

Twenty years later and I'm surrounded, quite literally, by the greener grass. This leaves me with little to long for other than that largely lost sense of not knowing but hoping, of waiting to become.