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    Brian McGrory

    We will pay for all this untimely weather

    So I’m walking down the Greenway yesterday, walking past the crocuses blooming by Atlantic Wharf, the maintenance guys preparing the fountains, the office workers sitting at outdoor tables, and my stomach is in a knot. I hung a right on Hanover Street, where a nice woman planted outdoor flower boxes and one restaurant after another flung open their windows to the street.

    The clouds gave way to sun. The temperatures nudged toward the 70s. And everyone was smiling, locals and tourists, young and old, the innately happy and the perpetually put-upon. The whole scene, this entire city, felt like an old Dr Pepper commercial, the joyful throngs about to break into rousing song and dance.

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