It was one of those perfect moments, you know, when everything takes on a tinge of the archetypal. A warm spring day coming after days of clouds and cold.
I am driving down a street cluttered with signs and cars; the radio blaring with the heavy beat of rock and roll. Seemlessly, the world transforms. The huge, faded plastic sign hanging slightly askew, advertising goods and places that no longer exist, takes on an air of romance and perfection. The smell and feel of sunshine mixes with the beat of the music; I can’t remember if I am young or old. I open the window and the air of heaven fills the car. Most of the trees are still bare, but scattered along the roadside are huge ornamental pear trees in full bloom, bright yellow forsythia, and the pink-purple tinge of red buds about to bloom. Flags advertising condos and tax preparation services wave dramatically, a man walks confidently along a busy roadside carrying dry cleaning over his shoulder, cars that are dusty and dented have every bit of beauty and perfection as do newer cars. A utility truck makes a stunning turn across a parking lot. Spring green joins the sunlight. It is a day promising everything and nothing; all is present and perfect in the moment.
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