It Might As Well Be Spring, Be Spring, Be Spring
When I was a little boy a very long time ago I got sick with a cold that settled in my ear. An infection developed and a doctor, who I really hated, came to the house sat on me and lanced the infection.
And if that weren’t bad enough he told me that I couldn’t go outside for two weeks. It was the middle of April; I had already begun a life-long love affair with spring.
I knew that by May first most of the trees, the huge Dutch elms and oaks in our Cleveland Heights neighborhood would begin to burst into leaf. (You could almost hear it happening)
