Before we moved to Boston, people warned me. Not in a mean way — in that well-meaning, I'm-just-being-honest way that people do when they think they're preparing you for something hard. Oh, you'll hate it. New Englanders are cold. They're rude. They don't let people in.

Boston spring finally showed up and I went outside immediately and stayed there. A Friday walk through the Arnold Arboretum at peak cherry blossom season that turned into way more than a quick stop.

I have now seen the northern lights three times this year. Twice right here in Massachusetts. I still cannot fully believe that sentence is true.

Boston in early spring does this thing where it gives you one perfect week and then takes it back. Magnolia season is that week.