A Super Tuesday

Change is in the air.

The atmosphere today was so clear it was almost as if there was none. The buildings of downtown stood crisp and vivid against the cerulean deep as candescent-rimmed silver halide clouds rolled across the middle distance. Every shadow was a razor's edge of contrast making the world look simultaneously both cutout and multidimensional.

The air made itself known, however, by the sharp scent of ozone and leftover rain, mingling with loamy spice of wet bark and earth. Half a block from my apartment stand two Victorian Box trees in perpetual blossom, whose riotous florid branches fill the air with a sublimely sweet honey orange perfume.

The world seems to be throwing off the chill winter dark and emerging into a brightly lit season of renewal, fresh hope and promise.

The perfect day, in fact, for an election.