Spring was not so unseemly in my day
Slept poorly all this week. I have given some consideration to becoming nocturnal. The nights though still cold are merely bracing rather than truly frigid, at least to one whose blood was early thickened by Pennsylvania winters and a father’s parsimony in matters of hearth-fuel, and I find the nocturnal company at least as enjoyable as any available during the day — increasingly so as the weather warms, for each year about this time the tree frogs emerge from hibernation. The first half-teaspoonful of spring awakens their amphibian yearnings, as I suppose it would have mine in earlier decades, and they spend the quickening nights chirping lustily at one another. Read on
