The Cab Not Taken

The weather, it just gets worse.

Hoping for summer? Keep hope alive! Remember spring? Surely, we must have had one. (Missed it last year; we were in the bathroom.) Wait, a dim memory: a vague recollection of a spring-like afternoon last week. It comes back to us now. We were on upper Queen Anne. A whole street of yellow blossoms catches our eye. Goldenchain, they call those trees, don't they? Laburnum, in the garden store.

Ah, spring, when a young man's fancy turns. Thoughts of love, thoughts of travel.

A taxi driver pulls up in front of a house to wait for his fare. We could take this cab to SeaTac and fly to Merry Olde England! Drink warm, flat, bitter beer. Hop on the Eurostar to Paree! Eat escargots and drink Beaujolais. Honk! Daydream downshifts. Honk-honk!! Realism sets in. Would get hammered by the euro and pounded by the pound. Besides, somebody else is getting into the cab.

Anyway, for a brief, shining moment it was spring in Seattle.