A favorite thing I saw last week: the sad man in a pastel suit that managed to look a tad frumpy and ordinary despite the palette choices walking one hand in pocket, briefcase over shoulder, smoking morosely while walking through the most beautiful spring exuberance. No, scratch that, spring is a much moodier creature here in the northeast. Where I grew up we got rain instead of snow, so spring was a shocking, almost garish creature. Here it’s like this photo, twiggy, warm only in the sun, and only if it’s not too windy, thrusting shocks of green from the bulb families through the grey and brown. Kind of like that sad man. Just trying to muster a springy mindset by donning pink and white and strolling through the woods but also smoking rather tragically, clinging to his work. And the smoking was the springiest part.