Three Days of SpringLiving in Boston is just plain strange in one respect. This orderly notion of winter, spring, summer, fall doesn't really ever happen here.
You have about ten months of winter.
Then you have about three days of spring.
Then it's hot again ... humid ... pretty gross, call that summer.
And then fall which is beautiful for one week in October, then suddenly it feels like the bleakest, boldest, barest-trees November wind-howling nightmare imaginable.
Don't be fooled into any lovely calendar depiction of the four seasons -- it doesn't exist.
I already miss the spring, all three days of it.