It's not wedding season. Not for me. Weeding season? -- I've got some to pull. It's rose season, I saw a sign that said so. And there's a shit-ton of roses out there. By that sign today I saw: red roses, pink roses, peach roses, yellow ones, whites, maroon roses, even rose-colored roses. Just walking around Ladd's I saw bunches of these flowers. Guess that's why this the Rose City. But today, I also happen to catch a glimpse of geraniums, forget-me nots, irises, purple things, leafy ones, and other multi-colored plants. Now, I don't know flora all that much (obviously) but I do know what smells nice. Green. Cut grass. Blooming flowers. Pollen. Air. It's nice to be outside these days. I used to enjoy staying in, looking out. My favorite color is gray. The cold, wetness was my excuse to hole myself in and read and type, to be alone. There was something solo about it. It's better to get out -- there some friendly faces out there. I've come to appreciate crisp air, exercise, neighboring nods. No longer drab, no longer dull, I'm walking the dog nightly and figuring out what else it is I've been missing out on. Bloom-ya.

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