My best friend from college, Mary, was in town a last weekend for a long overdue visit.
We spent the majority of the weekend walking around the city, sipping
cocktails, catching up on the latest, and reminscing about college - the better choices we could have made in the boyfriends department, the better choices we should have made in the when it is okay to ride your bicycle home from a bar department, the NR420 nightmare (Integrated Natural
Resources Management - a horrifying experience at the
time that has since provided hours of laughter), and the summer at
Pingree Park where we had to learn about 100 different scientific names for
about 100 different grasses (not including the kind people may or may not have been smoking
up there just to get over the fact they had to learn how to spell that many latin words...).
My short term memory is almost non-existent, but Mary could still remember the song we made up to remember the name for blue grama prairie grass - Bouteloua! Unfortunately, I can't even remember the name of the tiny flower she pointed out to me last week that is blooming on my steps and smells amazing! She's an avid gardener and was quite fasinated by the city garden I'm lucky enough to overlook. Her enthusiasm was the perfect reminder to feel more grateful for my life as it is and not to miss the opportunity to stop and smell a flower every now and then. Today's been one of those days where just about nothing has gone right. So, on my way home for the post office, I stopped to breath in the little white flowers. For just a few moments I was reminded of unconditional friendships and the promise of new spring beginnings.
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