A day like this ought to have a name of its own

Have you ever noticed that first Thursday when the weather is truly spring-like; how around lunch time it starts to get hard to find a parking space; and how in the afternoon there are lots of out-of-town folks just walking around with a look of wonderment at it all? Today was one of those days.

As someone who has lived in a lot of different places where there is a change of seasons (e.g. every state in New England), I can attest to the fact that other places have these days where the air smells like fresh milk and everyone wants to skip work and strip down to their shorts and a tee-shirt. In Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont we would go spring skiing. In Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island we would start to get the boats ready. When I worked for Legal Aid in New York, we would finish our cases early and head for the Riviera Cafe in Greenwich Village and sit outside and drink beer and watch the river of life flow by down Seventh Avenue. We thought that was special, too.

But nothing beats a day like this in Yellow Springs when the town comes to life and, as you drive down Xenia Avenue taking it all in, you feel like shouting out your rolled-down window, "This place is springin'!" Someone ought to think up a name for this day. It happens once a year on that first Thursday of emotional spring. And today was that day.