There are very few constants in life. Jobs change, relationships come and go, children grow up (aren't these the lyrics to a song? I'm thinking either Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac or Neil Young, but can't quite place it), people get old and achy. Or at least I'm getting old and achy.
But, Chapel Hill in the spring is one of the few constants in life.
It's beautiful. It's always beautiful. And it smells good, too. Every year, no matter what. In the middle of a hundred year drought? Still lovely.
And the weather is nearly perfect, too; balmy, sunny, but cool enough in the mornings and evenings to not be oppressive.
And it's been this way forever! Seriously. Or, at least since 1985, which is the spring my brother was in his first year of grad school, and began commenting on it.
Oh, and to top it all off? IT'S ACC TOURNEY TIME!!!!!!
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