That's the trouble with Berkeley or Palo Alto--you never get to appreciate the coming of good weather.10My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
11For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
12The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
13The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
--Song of Songs, 2:10
To be interested in the changing seasons is, in this middling zone, a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.