Saturday was another sickeningly sweet day, so when N. suggested a trip to the spring flower show at the Rawlings Conservatory in Druid Hill Park and asked if I wanted to meet her there on my bike, the answer was an easy YES. I pedaled out without even a just-in-case sweatshirt, and I wasn’t the only one out there. The whole city seemed to have emerged in shorts and t-shirts and sunglasses, and I was happy to join them. I beat N. to the park, because bikes are faster than cars, especially when the car gives a guy who just missed the bus a ride to the train station–N. is such a peach. I sat on the conservatory steps to wait for her and watched as the parks folks set up for Saturday night’s glow-in-the-dark egg hunt, which to be honest, didn’t look like it was going to be much of a hunt. I mean, how hard is it to find a glowing egg hidden just barely under a layer of hay? I could totally dominate that shit, but I’m 30 years too old to participate. Oh well. I snapped this picture as more bales of hay were getting dropped off to give the setting its farm-realness, and I idly wondered when we’ll start hosting our Easter egg hunts off the farm, since most Baltimore children probably don’t have a visceral identification with “farm” anyway. And then N. made her way to the steps, we smelled all the flowers and took our springtime selfies, and it was back on the bike, a zippy ride home from another perfect spring day.