A week ago, I spent a Sunday evening singing with members of the SF Symphony Chorus, singing with their director, who is a man of enormous patience and enormous energy, and rather quirky metaphors for just about everything. He was all things charming, it was a lovely evening spent with good friends, and we had a short walk through the fresh evening to our modes of conveyance, and a short journey home.
I thought of that night last night, when I stepped to the slider downstairs to close the door, and the most gorgeous scent of night-resting flowers brushed in on the breeze. There is something about a cool Spring night after a warm Spring day. What blasts us in the summertime certainly tempts us in the spring.
night fey
beguiled by rich scents
tempted to leave doors open —
April, it is too soon!
Very nice — the memory and the haiku! Love it!
What a lovely Sunday that must have been!!