When my kids were younger, shifting seasons carried a certain excitement. It meant new routines, an altered landscape, or digging through hand-me- downs in storage bins, with fall’s cooler air holding the greatest promise of change. Crisp skies, glowing leaves and the sounds of a football game— all seemed to charge my home with uncommon zest. For the past couple of years, though, I’ve struggled to feel that old excitement. Our world isn’t changing, except for the worse, it seems. Its news obscures the blooming visuals of nature’s happier alterations, even as the weather teases us with spring’s warmth and impending arrival.
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