Something has happened. Spring. The trees in my neighborhood are leafed out.
Birds are chirping. The blooming cherry trees are dropping their final petals. Pink carpets everywhere. Yes friends, this is QUEENS I’m talking about.

What it does to me is very simple. I no longer notice buildings, cars, skate boarders, busses or trash. All I see is trees. Are trees? Trees.

I can stare at a tree for fifteen minutes. Let’s face it. We are monkeys. Serious ones with tanking Roth IRA’s. But who cares! We have trees! And bananas.

Okay, I bought the bananas at Met Foods.

In California, there is much discussion about “Beach People” “Mountain People” and “Desert People”. During one of these discussions up in Santa Barbara, a woman from Great Britain (or was it New Zealand?) said, “I’m a rain person.”

I guess I would have to say, simply, that I am a tree person. Flat out woods are fine with me. I think I’ll sprout a ringed tail.