.i“ * ^ / . . . . . ` `~

Hawthorne the author with an ‘e’, hawthorn the tree with no ‘e.’ This comes up because I had been thinking of Proust’s love of hawthorns on Hawthorne Street, it turns out, presumably named after the author. This was last Spring and it was actually a row of cherry blossoms that inspired the recollection. It was after a light rain and the trees remained in full blossom but the sidewalk below was plastered with their petals in a surprisingly even and lovely distribution.

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