The Four Seasons

OK, people, I promised you some snow angels.

And the Jimbo delivers.

It was such a fine day that I ambled over to Mount Auburn Cemetery across the Charles River in Cambridge.
It has always been one of my favorite spots.
In every season.

In the deep snow, it is a refuge of calm.
Both for the quick and the dead.

It was designed for walking and meditation.
And it is the perfect place to ease your mind.

Mount Auburn was created in 1831, and it makes sense to think of it as the precursor to the American parks movement, rather than just a graveyard.

It is far more like the Boston Common or the Arnold Arboretum than it is the Granary Burying Ground.

I went to Mount Auburn soon after I got back this fall.
The foliage was perfect.

Now fall has given way to winter.

And next will come spring.
And then summer.

All very different on this side of the pond.
Bolder, more intense.

Everyone knows that Boston is cold in the winter.
But how many people realize how hot it is in the summer?

I lived for 20 years in London without air conditioning.
Try doing that here.

It may be cold now, but wait until July.

Mount Auburn Cemetery is delightful all year round.
But it is really in the spring that the place comes into its own.

In late April and early May, the place is transformed into a blizzard of color.

That’s because it is a haven for migratory birds.
And especially the warblers.

After 20 years, I will finally see my lovelies again.

The Canada warbler.

And Wilson’s (look at that cute cap!)

The black-throated blue

And the incredibly sweet yellow warbler.

I am warning you people right now:
I may not be responsible for my actions!

It is the variety of the four seasons that gives New England its infinite charm.

So you can enjoy one.

And thrill at the thought of the next.