Sunrise, oh sunrise. It’s daylight almost when I cross the bridge these days. The gray clouds scatter, allowing the yellow sunshine to pour through, a glimpse of blue sky beyond.
The river reflects back the yellow sky, the blue-gray hills. The city shimmers in two colors. No green, no pink in this world; just bright daylight and shadow, yellow and blue, at once warm and almost springlike and yet cool and wintry. March threatens to burst forth, but whether with snow or spring flowers none can tell.