Thinking about Springtime

I think everyone loves springtime. Is this right, I wonder? Hard to make such a generalization, but I love it enough for everyone, so we'll just say yes - everyone loves springtime. The smells of fresh landscaping, the sounds of groups of people walking slowly down the city streets, the fact that exposing skin for more than 20 seconds won't result in some sort of burn - it's just a wonderful time of year.
But I wonder why, exactly? Is it because the weather is so perfect, or more because the previous weather was so lousy? I'm a huge believer in the idea that without bitter, there is no sweet. And I think that without having to put up with those horrendous 3 or 4 months of Chicago winter, there would be far less excitement over spring. And as someone who lived in Los Angeles for three years, and moved away - almost primarily - because of the weather, I consider myself a bit of an expert in this topic. In Los Angeles, there are about 4 days of lousy weather per year. If you've never lived there, you might think this is another exageration, created by the bright lights and overdramatic Hollywood influence. But it's absolutely, 100% true. Rain is so scarce in LA, you forget what its like. You lose track of time. Did this happen a month ago, or a year ago? I don't know, every day has been exactly the same for as long as I can remember, so how can I tell how many days its been?
With perfect weather every day, there's nothing to get excited about when perfect weather comes along. "You want me to go to the park with you? Oh, it's perfect outside? Huh. Maybe tomorrow. Ren and Stimpy is on." This is what happens when time is no longer of the essence.
So I, like everyone else on this planet, loves springtime. But in stark contrast to some others on this planet, I wouldn't give up the harsh winter for a minute. Because I know that the worse winter gives me during the cold months, the sweeter the honey will be come March/April. As far as I'm concerned, there really can be too much of a good thing.