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The weather is gorgeous, and so we play outside

Yesterday morning when I crawled out of bed, I peered out my balcony doors and saw snow falling gently. I didn’t bother to check whether it was sticking to the ground, because I knew it wasn’t. I pressed my bare feet against the radiator situated between the doors and my sink and deliberated between making breakfast or scalding myself in the shower. I think I ended up deciding on the shower, as I usually do, simply because it’s a shorter trip down the hall.

Today I awoke to birds chirping so loudly I could hear them through the shut balcony doors. I braced myself for a gust of cold wind, telling myself the chill would be worth it, to hear those birds better, and jerked open the door. The air outside was warmer than that in my room, and I’d left the heat on overnight.

It was quickly decided amongst those present in the building that a trip to the Englischer Garten was in order. So we gathered up the necessary supplies: a frisbee, an American football, empty soda bottles filled with tap water, and a few blankets. Then we were on our way.

After many hours of cavorting across the rather muddy fields, leaping and slipping and wheezing from a lazy winter, we took a break to see off the few people who had to head home and shower before going to work. The day winded down as the sun lolled about before setting, and we washed the mud off our bare feet in the river running through the Garden.

On the way home, I came across a painted rock and it captivated me.

I hope this rock imparted to you but a fragment of the joy it did to me. I was thoroughly mocked for bothering to stop to take this picture, but I’ve just founded a religion under whose tenets anyone who doesn’t appreciate this rock goes straight to hell. And by “hell” I mean they don’t get to see any cool painted rocks while they’re just walking around.

Other things later. Today was too much fun. Take a look at the full, albeit brief, album.