I always claim autumn as being my favorite season, what with its cooling days, perfect for sweaters, and the abundance of color in the treetops, among other things that bring me joy. But when I experience a spring like this one I’m hard put not to do a complete aboutface. Spring is truly a wonder. There’s something new every day, every moment practically. The kids ran laughing and shrieking through the sprinkler this afternoon, sleek as upright seals, their legs coated with tiny green grass shavings. They put the sprinkler under the big trampoline and screeched as the water tickled...

Being home after weeks away makes me feel like jigging, though I don’t actually know how to jig. I assume it includes planting your fists on your hips, arms akimbo and kicking your legs scissory from under your tartan but I may be getting confused with a reel. It wouldn’t be the first time. Spring is far more advanced here than it was in either Michigan or Massachusetts. I didn’t sleep on the atlantic flight at all, choosing instead to spend more than half the flight absorbed in movies I would probably never have gotten around to seeing. The first...