As luck and truth would have it, the rain let up at just the right time yesterday morning for our annual walk through the cherry blossoms across from the State Capitol. The trees were at their peak bloom, with just a bit of pink snow falling, some of which we wore home. Above them, the sky was constantly changing, windswept as it was, with gray clouds and white, and a frantic, low-altitude duck making its way upstream, quacking in time with its wings. And of course we all know that the sky begins where the ground ends. The delightful thing is that each time we remember this, we notice just the slightest bit of space between our feet and the ground. And then, and from there, up, up we go.