Feeling bad, stuck inside. Looking at the mystery tree — I’m not sure what kind it is.
forging ahead and a mystery

Feeling bad, stuck inside. Looking at the mystery tree — I’m not sure what kind it is.
Ernst Halberstadt, “Commonwealth Avenue between Arlington and Berkeley Streets” (1973)
The season’s final blossoms bring
More dear delight than buds of spring.
They stir in us a live communion
Of sorrowfully poignant dreams.
Thus oft the hour of parting seems
More vivid than a sweet reunion.
—Aleksandr Pushkin