Summer has this intoxicating effect on northerners, out of the open window across the alley, music streams like a ribbon in a May Day march. You find yourself singing along after at first frowning at the improbability of the happiness found in fleeting chart songs.The subways are full of old ladies selling parsley and dill from their country cottages, their fragrance follows you for a while as do the ladies' weather beaten brows and paisley kerchiefs. Among the restless hustle of a big city you stop to take in an impromptu trumpet solo after seeing a ballet. Others stop with you, perhaps forming their own memories. The weightless nature of the soul is palpable in the eternal light of summer.