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Green Weather April 6, 2012

Posted by The Typist in Fortin Street, Jazz Fest, New Orleans, Toulouse Street.
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Its a blue and breezy 66 degrees outside. My cheap weather station says the humidity is 60% just outside my door. The winter-barren columnade of Nuttal Oaks (as best I can tell from the LSU Ag Center leaf identification site) are leafed in their brightest Easter green. There is probably no better indication of spring than my going out the door this morning to pluck a cluster of leaves and look them up when I should be working. If I knew how to weave a May crown out of these things I would frighten the hell out of my son when he wakes up.

The trees just barely shield me from the sound of Jazz Fest construction across the street. Jazz Fest is for me the start of summer, the first time out of the house and into the sun in spite of the heat. It is only weeks away, a movable feast like Easter, tied to the weekend in the middle of the weeks that straddle April and May. Soon I will be standing too far back from the music, digging in my bag for sunscreen and cursing the decision that put the only decent bear clear across the Fairgrounds from the Gentilly Stage. Or I will sit on my stoop watching the crowds pass in and out, door open so I can hear my music between sets, air conditioning bleeding out through the door.

That is later. This is now, the leaves laying darkly on the off-white cushion on the spare chair next to my front-room desk. They look nice enough there but better across the street, semaphores for the gentle breeze, the last not a a trite modifier but the description for Beaufort Force 3 winds. “Leaves and small twigs constantly moving, light flags extended.” I haven’t put up my New Orleans flag since I took down the Krewe de Vieux banner.

There is room in front to put in some inexpensive flowers, but I don’t have time right now. I think I will just put up my flag instead with it’s marigold fluer de lis and it’s bright impatien red, white and blue call it good.

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