A seasonal (spring) visit to a daughter. I pick a time that’s perhaps a touch close to winter, but the other months of spring are not good visiting months for either of us. Besides, this is April – an enduring favorite month of mine.
Spring, of course, is a social construct. Forget calendar dates and such markers as length of daylight or appearance of migratory birds. That’s all too encyclopedic. And misleading. For example, Wikipedia would probably argue that April 1st belongs to spring. We know better, back in Madison. April 1st had a solid winter stink to it (to put it bluntly). But April 2nd – springtime! Giddy, effervescent, crocus-spotted spring.
My flight takes off and I look down. Brown, with specs of white. Well, it’s early in the season.
In Boston, too, I’m reminded of just how early. It’s raining. It’s foggy. It’s, well, cool.
And yet… ahhhh! No doubt. Spring.