The sun shines still, and I drove home topless, my hair in my eyes and up my nose with the breeze from the cars movement - it wasn't quite bumper to bumper all the way but there were certainly a lot of people leaving early to make the most of the pleasant evening sun.
I was kicking myself as I drove to work this morning, during March I passed a pylon stub, and pieces of pylon littered on the ground ready for building, and I promised myself I would stop and take some pictures for Parmanu, but I never got around to it, and now the pylon is up and ordinary.
I did make the detour today to see the blasted tree, and can report that it is indeed alive, with caterpillar green leaves perching on top of the horizontal frame like a bad toupee, so it's not a particularly good symbol or metaphor for heartache any longer. I still feel strangely calm, indefinite about that topic at the moment, the temptation is still there, to beg and abase myself if only things could go back (to what, I don't question right now); and I know it grows with the evening. But I am coping, I think.