Night and Day

London, in the first days of spring, has buds that open and flowers that suddenly shake their petals–white, purple, or crimson–in competition with the display in the garden beds, although these city flowers are merely so many doors flung wide in Bond Street and the neighborhood, inviting you to look at a picture, or hear a symphony, or merely crowd and crush yourself among all sorts of vocal, excitable, brightly colored human beings.