After a long period of bad weather (while I was out of town), Spring has finally arrived in Boston. The place seems euphoric.

Last night at the Fen­way train sta­tion, a lone trom­bon­ist was belt­ing out jazzy impro­vi­sa­tions on the tune of “Dirty Water.” It made me smile. The Red Sox vic­to­ri­ously over­took the Yan­kees in the last min­utes of the game.

At lunchtime today, I walked past the Berklee School of Music to find a tal­ented string quar­tet prac­tic­ing under the shade of a big tree.

The air smells won­der­ful. It’s nice to be back.