This weekend, in between group meetings, paper-writing and catch-ups with friends, I had a few stolen moments in New York's parks to enjoy the fact that after a long and painful winter, spring has finally arrived. This is New York at its most seductive: the trees and shrubs burst with blooms and the city comes back to life. City folk crowd every park bench, lawn and sidewalk cafe, soaking up that sorely missed warm sunshine.

It's amazing how a few hours of extra sunlight and fresh spring weather can completely change one's outlook on life. No matter how very stressful the next few weeks will be for me, I can't shake it—I can't seem to budge from this very happy place! That light at the end of the tunnel is oh so very bright now ... soon enough, I'll be soaking all that beautiful light up and I can't wait!

Love locks—if you've ever walked down Brooklyn Bridge, you might have noticed clusters of them hanging off the structure here and there. And if you've strolled past Pont des Arts and Pont de l'Archevêché in Paris, you might've missed the actual bridges and just seen the city's entire supply of padlocks hanging above the Seine. Some people despise them, some have made their love of them plainly known ... me, I'm fascinated by them. When I see love locks, I get wrapped up in imagining what could be going on in the minds of the people who've locked them up and thrown away the key. I think they're a manifestation of how we all grapple with the fleeting nature of our lives and our overwhelming desire for some sort of permanence. That desire becomes amplified when we're in love. Love is such a wonderful and beautiful thing to feel—sometimes, frighteningly so, because we know that it will have to come to an end at some point ... whether it's because feelings have changed or, in the best case scenario we can hope for, because we've lived our lives to the fullest.

Or maybe it's just fun to lock stuff up and throw away the key. What do I know?