'Spring Ain't Comin'

Spring never comes to Boston. One day, it's Winter and the next day it's Summer.

Yes it is, yes it is. And then - "sumer is a cumin in
Ludly sing cuckoo...


See? Just wait. Of course, right now it's 11 degrees.

"Steam heat...sisssssssssssssss"!

New Haven

My daughter was a law student in Chicago. She was struck how it seemed to go from Winter to summer with no appreciable Spring there.
Boston has four seasons including a cold winter, and warm to moderately hot summer but also a fairly long Spring and Fall compared with the continental climate of Chicago (your hometown, I think) and environs.

I think that Chicago has more of a Spring than does Boston.

Chicago also has a definite Fall, while Boston never sees Fall.

I prefer Chicago weather to Boston's. If there's Spring in Boston, I sure don't know when it comes. It doesn't stay very long. Some Aprils we have snow storms. Then in May, the temps often goes up to the 90s.

Chicago is far more humid than is Boston. It makes a big difference whether a city is on a lake ( Lake Michigan ) or on the ocean ( Atlantic Ocean).

New Haven!! What happened to your Icon??

I've grown accustomed to your face!

It goes with your cheerful disposition!

Oh well, it's your choice.


Anyway my friend,
I'll concede that I haven't spent enough time in
Chicago to make a proper judgement on the seasons in that locale....but Boston...
That's another matter. I've spent my entire life in this area.

First, I'm baffled by your saying that there's no Autumn here!
Autumn is FAMOUS here!
It's our loveliest season!
No one has the blazing Fall colors of New England. Tourists flock to this area in Autumn for just that reason.

It IS true that Spring is fickle in New England.
The old saying about local weather that I grew up with was:

"Don't like the weather? wait a minute it'll change!"

In the following passage from 'Two Tramps at Mud Time' R. Frost speaks of that changeableness:

"...The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.

A bluebird comes tenderly up to alight
And turns to the wind to unruffle a plume,
His song so pitched as not to excite
A single flower as yet to bloom.
It is snowing a flake; and he half knew
Winter was only playing possum.
Except in color he isn't blue,
But he wouldn't advise a thing to blossom.

The water for which we may have to look
In summertime with a witching wand,
In every wheelrut's now a brook,
In every print of a hoof a pond.
Be glad of water, but don't forget
The lurking frost in the earth beneath
That will steal forth after the sun is set
And show on the water its crystal teeth..."

Incidentally, I just posted the whole poem on the Frost thread that you started:
http://www.able2know.com/forums/viewtopic.php?p=84443#84443