We went for a walk today into the back alleys of Summerhill. As we stepped out of our house, we were greeted with snow flurries, shortly followed by a wallop of cold wind that swept us off our feet. By the time we reached Ramsden Park, the sun was out in all its glory, and it felt like spring again. April in Toronto is the month where winter and spring intersect; spring sends love notes in the form of a bluebells and forsythia, while winter takes its last big breaths. I love to tell my son that he was born between two seasons, that tiny buds of pink sprung from bare branches, while the sun shone and the snow fell.