It Might As Well Be Spring
Spring is such a shameless flirt. I recall blogging a couple years ago about the most vehement, school-stopping snowstorm of the year happening on the Vernal Equinox, so I am well aware of the fact that a few sunny days and an active moist breeze does not Spring make. But despite any intellectual pattern recognition and despite the fact that we have only just passed the midpoint of the slow computer morph of lion into lamb, I have caught Spring Fever. I am disappointed every time I realize that while it looks glorious outside, it’s still too chill to abandon my heavier wool topcoat in favor of my more traditional black cotton.
Still, the seven inches of show we received last week melted away within two days, and the crusties and hippies have emerged, blinking, from the heated confines of Café Koko and started lingering outside in a cloud of smoke and grime, so while Spring may not actually be here, we are certainly well into Thaw.
Celebrate early with me. Have a listen to Stacey Kent‘s marvelous, swininging “It Might as Well Be Spring” from her Rodgers and Hammerstein collection In Love Again.
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