Spring. It seems to have exploded, the way it sometimes does in the Hudson Valley. One day it’s snowing, and the next day the forsythia is blooming.

Kite flying is, naturally, a spring tradition. On the recent Sunday when I walked in the park with a student, there were hundreds of kites aloft.

The mounds of strawberries have appeared in the street market, that delectable image from my December dream.

And something is happening in our courtyard. Through my first year, this was a wasteland of dog droppings and trash. Last spring, some evergreens were planted – the timing made it obvious that they were leftovers from landscaping being done on campus (cf The Inspection). The dogs and other litterers persisted, but at least we had the trees.

Then, recently, about four cubic meters of aromatic hog manure were delivered to our humble enclosure. The manure was spread, left to cure, and eventually hand cultivated into what passes for soil, here – something like tan-colored talcum powder. I now await with delight and fascination the next steps toward gentrification in Xiao Yantan.