Bob and I took a walk by Lake Merritt, a brief walk because it was so windy. The lake water was gray and choppy. Small black and white coots bobbed up and down on its liquid ridges. We walked with our gloves on and our coat hoods pulled up, shivering with the wind at our backs, so we were amazed to see more than one jogger run by wearing shorts. They all had tanned legs like it was summer instead of winter. Oh, I forgot. It's not winter anymore; it's spring.
On the way back to the car, it got a bit warmer. We even had what my friend in Seattle calls "the occasional sun break," though the sun looked sickly, like it needed to get out of the house more. As we neared the row of apartment buildings where our car was parked, we heard a clamor of bells, everyone's wind chimes ringing madly in the breeze. So that was our outing, but I felt restless so I drove to the Alameda Library. The wind was even harsher there. The library's three flags (The Stars and Stripes, The California Bear, and an anchor insignia for the island of Alameda) flapped loudly against their metal pole, another discordant wind concert. I fought my way the few feet from my car to the library doors and then went to the reading room where I huddled over a book for the rest of the afternoon.
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