The seasons of teaching follow texts and tasks, instead of light and temperature. Winter is Pride and Prejudice and the heavy weight of its term papers. Spring brings the craziness of Wuthering Heights and the scramble to get the literary magazine to press. But the real spring also brings light–the longer days and gentle breezes that lay a light warmth on our evenings. So even without a hike, I can find pictures by just sitting on my deck at sunset–even in the bland world of suburbia.