There are years when I feel as though I’ve missed Spring entirely. Believe, me, true Spring (with a capital S) is a fleeting season in New York City, just a week or two crushed between the bone-chilling rainy days of late winter and the months-long oppression of summer’s filth-tinged humidity.
I’m really going to pay attention this year so that I can make the most of Spring’s brief delights. Never mind the deadlines (and oh, do I have deadlines for the next few weeks!) — I’ve been forcing myself to go outside for afternoon coffee breaks and I’ve already bought my tickets to Sakura Matsuri, the annual cherry blossom festival at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. I even have my perfume picked out: Dawn Spencer Hurwitz Gekkou Hanami (“Sakura Gazing in the Moonlight”)…
