Every spring, my favorite season is spring. Every fall, my favorite season is fall. I think the reality is that I crave that middle space; whether temperament, politics, or weather, I don’t enjoy extremes. But I’m also perpetually captivated by the rhythms of nature, and the closer I look, the more I see. I’m trying to imprint things onto my brain - what week does our wisteria begin to bloom? When will the ginkgo tree finally shudder and drop its golden leaves? When will the hummingbirds reappear?