I usually count the first open-windows day as the first day of spring, but this year I confused the issue by cheating. One day last week, desperate for fresh air, I opened the windows and wore a coat in the house for a few hours. Which means I can’t count yesterday as the first.
February is always a tough month for me. Its cold, sun-starved days routinely trigger new bouts of depression and anxiety. March, on the other hand, is usually a month of recovery.
And if this year’s recovery has been slower to start and harder to sustain than previous years, it has at least begun.
The weather forecast promises a return of winter before the week is finished, but the lengthening days will not allow it to stay.
Soon the yard will be overrun and winter will fall away into memory, as it does every year.