afternoon, one spring, in a city with a river running through it. 

i left the coffee shop on broadway street that sat in the basement of the thai restaurant serving steaming, spicy plates of curry. the aromas of cardamom and ginger always fell through the floor vents and swirled into the coffee shop, making it feel like someone's home. the man behind the counter that also owned the place, never forgot my face and always forgot my name. his speech was specked with a middle eastern accent and if ever i passed by, making eye contact with him when he was sitting on the one lone chair outside the cafe meant an invitation inside and down the steps for a mug of coffee. 

on this day, the rain kept me inside the cafe. i sat on a couch facing the large front window, watching the rain fall and ignoring completely that the time for my afternoon class had come and gone. i placed my inquisitions, instead, on the rolling steam that raised from my coffee cup. once the rain passed, i stepped outside in my rain boot galoshes and not a block away, i was passing under a beautiful, blooming bush of gardenias. they were the sweetest shade of pink, screaming of spring. the rain had washed hundreds of their loose petals clean off the buds and a blanket of gardenia-petal mush was covering the sidewalk. i slipped a bit. found balance. and found their purposeless pattern worthy of a simple blurry photo. 

happy first day of spring :)