And the Horse Spring Rides In On… The season of spring--God bless it--wears many faces. It has inspired poets to greatness, encouraged the downhearted, confounded meteorologists and induced weeping by throngs of spouses who don’t care for yard work. I am one of those, ashamed that I’m far south of my wife’s expectations, rarely carrying “my part of the mulch.” Spring can enter quietly, like Carl Sandburg’s description of fog tippy-toeing on “little cat feet,” or comparab ...