Funny how your definition of ‘nice weather’ ends up being so contextual. Back home, the crocuses and daffodils are up and the garden shows are in full swing, with bands of merry horticulturists rubbing their hands together in anticipation of planting in early April. Here, we're very happy that it looks like this:

Which means it’s as much as 60 degrees warmer than it was last week, depending on how you're counting. So we’ve all completely changed our wardrobes (from the Negatives Getup to the Dude, Above 20 Means Shorts attire), poked our heads out of our caves, and begun to congregate and remark upon the fact that spring is definitely coming, yes it is. I put on my yellow coat yesterday and reveled in my walk to an afternoon lecture, glove-less and happily stomping on slush that was decidedly not treacherous. Afterwards, I snapped photos all the way back to the parking garage and then drove home through the twilight with the Owls’ “Bury Your Mind” on a loop, intent on getting home ahead of my guest to throw the pot of soup on the stove to heat.

We poured wine and told each other that yes, spring was definitely coming. You can tell with these beautiful days, you know. The weather prophet is similarly excited, forecasting a beautiful, sunny weekend with highs in the 30s. The 30s! These concepts get Twin Citians very excited, especially after a particularly brutal winter, and we do such things as head out to play baseball on the frozen lakes.

Because really, yes. The winds have changed and you can feel the future in them, but the landscape still looks like this. The difference, for us? You can totally see all of the benches now, because they're not half-covered with snow.

We don’t care, it’s a start. Never mind the brutal, sneaky springs, the famous March Mess that is to come.

All we need is the light at the end of the tunnel. And actually, some of us like it just fine right now, right here, where it’s warm enough for the yellow coat and cold enough to keep the promise of snow and prevent the pollen from descending upon us. This stage is pretty fine.