I admit it: I was wrong. Even I was wearing sundresses through that ten-day window of freakishly warm—no, downright hot—temps a few weeks ago, and it felt so good. Even the quality of the light looked summery—a strong, flattering golden hue rather than the washed-out quality of early spring. I felt a little awkward flashing my pale gams on my bike, but as they say, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.