By the end of February, I notice my office is no longer shrouded in darkness by 4:30pm. Even an errant snowfall is short-lived and laughable. A mere three weeks later, daylight stretches well beyond 6 p.m. Forget Christmas in New York; this is absolutely the best time of the year, because early spring is the season of light, and with light comes hope. At this moment anything is possible. The Yankees and the Mets can make the post season. Any one of us can train and be ready for the New York Marathon. Shared summer houses still sound like an awesome idea.
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