One thing that is strange about the city is how long and loud a thunderstorm has to be to convince me that it's really thunder and not just a big truck going over the Green Line tracks. I'm not sure I like that.

I went back to Colgate over the weekend and was again struck by its beauty, even with all the unsightly construction all over the campus. I could really smell spring beginning there. It's beginning here too, but there's just not enough fresh moist dirt embracing the air to make it a really pervasive feeling.

There are times when I think that the city is beautiful, but I've realized that it's mostly when nature imposes itself on the city architecture -- the sun glinting off the Pru and Hancock towers in just the right way, or setting over the Charles, or the moon hovering over the Citgo sign, or the snow blanketing Brookline's trees and softening its rough edges.

I adore this city for the independence that it's allowed me to have, with all its conveniences and transportation options. But I desperately miss the hills and the stars and the trees, and some days I think it's inevitable that I return to them someday. Maybe not soon, but someday.

Occasionally I see Orion peek out from behind a building, and it's nice to know that he's still out there.