The Color of Dust & Smoke

We're on our third or fourth episode of spring's choking wind. Inside, I wipe down the counter tops, and by the next day a new layer has settled. Star dust. Topsoil from Flagstaff. Bits of lint and cat fur from some hippy's house in southern California. Particulate matter.

The makings of crusty nose snot. Damned desert.
And it makes your lips and tongue sore, like you've licked a cement block or been mixing Quickcrete.

Fire south along the Bosque yesterday. You could really smell it/ made your lungs hurt here on campus, 5 miles away.

It was unseasonably hot until today, when it's chilly again. Having walked out without a coat, I'm shivering.

*Have not photographed them, but G's miniature wax-yellow daffies under the Japanese scholar tree came up & bloomed last week. And the pale yellow daffodils from the mix of bulbs we planted in the fall came up: fully 2 weeks later than the traditional yellows. Maybe even 3... it's all a bit of a blur.