Today's pressing question in 100 or fewer words:
According to the thermometer on my car's dashboard, it reached 64 degrees today. This bears repeating: Sixty-four degrees. In February!
Pedestrians sauntered. Joggers hustled past in shorts and tee-shirts. Students played frisbee, neighbors took walks, and above all, people smiled like we've emerged from a deep, dark cave and been reintroduced to the finer sensory details of birds chirping, a pleasant breeze, and the lilt of overheard, meandering conversation.
It made me wonder: Do we really look this alive and vibrant for the duration of spring and summer, or is this reserved for those rare sixty-four degree days in February?