Good Morning.

Ah, I remember spring. What a strange thing that used to be. We'd have cold weather, darkness, snow, a thing called "winter". But then something miraculous occured.


Beginning sometime around April, it would get gradually warmer. There would be birds returning, plants chirping, maybe even a random warm and sunny day. At about this time of year, both my late grandfather and mother would begin picking around the garden. It's not quite May yet, but everything would be ready to be planted no later than Mother's Day.

I can remember going to baseball games in the spring, too. Fenway is never the warmest ballpark, but when the sun is shining and you're sitting in the bleachers, it can be quite warm indeed.

But then something happened.

It's noticeable to me in the last 30 years, based on my own unscientific observations. What I find the most obvious is the gardening season. Look, I'm part Sicilian - I'm required by law and family tradition to have a vegetable garden, no matter how small and pathetic it is.

Around 20 years ago now, I finally dug up a little corner of my yard and started growing things. Based on my knowledge of the terroir, we planted around Mother's Day. But over time, that mythical "Spring" has disappeared. To some extent, so has winter. We saw that same pattern again this year - it was mostly mild and dry through the months of December, January, and February. We did have one cold snap, but it only lasted a few days. Then we hit March and April and the weather has closed in. Weeks and weeks of cold, windswept rain, plus the rare snowflake or two.

The weather Gods somehow allowed us to see the eclipse earlier this month, on what would have been a "normal" spring day around here - about 60 degrees and partly sunny.

Looking out my window right now, we've got low clouds and pouring rain, and it's only about 50 degrees. For the second weekend in a row. This was the pattern last year, too. You know I work outside in the tourism industry. Saturday is our busiest day, but when it's cold, rain, and an onshore breeze whipping off the cold North Atlantic - well, nobody rides.

Never mind my garden. I still plant, but I'm weeks away from giving it a thought. I don't put anything in the ground until Memorial Day now - about three weeks later than I used to. The corollary is that where my plants used to last until around Columbus Day, I now still have living things and some small production up until Veteran's Day or later. One year, I still had fresh garden tomatoes on Thanksgiving.

This is clearly not normal. I am the only one on this blog with an actual child. I think that I was Javi's age today in 1989. Javi will be my age today in 2059. What will the world look like then?