Growing up in a small town in the Sonoran desert, I loved matinees. Besides the film, the theatre was cool and dark. My first summer in London, I suggested a weekend matinee to my English wife. “We can’t,” she replied, incredulous, “the sun is out.” That winter, I learned more about seizing the day when the weather is nice. Coming from a virtually season-less landscape, I would plan my gardening for Saturday and my reading for Sunday, weeks in advance. These days, I check the forecast, and adjust accordingly.