This is the best time of the year of some.
Until last week’s brief spate of rain, the weather has been intergalactically fantastic.
Down in the harbor, the light is as unique as what it’s lighting — by day, aquatint sunshine, softer than autumn but just as clairvoyant, placing the colors of the coves into their postcard compositions, turns to perfect peach light evenings and stock still Disney sunsets.
Time stands frozen as the evening inches inevitably forward, not a ripple to be detected in the cove, not a person, dog or car dares move and spoil this perfection. The sun is summarily submerged by the earth’s inflexible schedule, to be finally followed by Gloucester’s skyline silhouetted before an oil painting, end-of-day setting sun. Gloucester looks as old as time in silhouette, stacked up on its nine hills as it is.
Rocky Neck is piled high in the air on its outcroppings, the red sun merged and magnified into an image of paint factory, windows and horizon. There isn’t a shred of wind on the harbor and every image is reflected back into double pleasure.
Has there ever been more spectacular weather? This early May can be the most remarkable combination of sights, sounds and smells as the season warms and the trees explode.
All around the city, green is popping out amidst the shocking yellow forscythia while the oak forests cast their red haze of buds against that luminescent blue sky — in a week, they’ll be fully leafed out, too. Shade trees have bloomed slightly early with their white hairdos all frizzled up like a prom queen with a perm as birds sing away their triumphant merriment.
No time to waste, there’s bird work to do. Everywhere, nests are thriving, nurturing and feeding away with the little bird tots. Red birds, green birds, winging by on the way to work, work, work.