I really have nothing to say other than “the grass is green and the sky is blue,” but somehow that becomes important after the winter. The grass has been waking up, its color changing from a dull gray-green when it first emerged from its winter blanket into an aliveness that made me really notice it yesterday and today. I’m pretty indifferent to grass so this means something. And the sky, just the right note of lightness and transparency, not so full as in summer, not so tense as in winter. In winter a blue sky is out of place. But in spring–or, all right, in summer–it’s the norm, and I’m eager for it. Green grass and blue sky, I’ve never seen you before–not like this, not this year. Come and be welcome.