It was a pale, silver sliver of a spring evening, and the twilight slant lasted longer than usual. I arrived a little early at Ildiko’s house and, with a hankering for something green, headed to the village yard to find some soska, wild sorrel. Szebi showed me how to spot it, and then Cintia and I added it to my basket by the handful. And then we added a flower, and then another flower, and another, and by the end – a trip across the quiet Tisza branch and back – we had more flowers than sorrel. This, of course, is the blissful condition of spring.