Usually by this time I'm plotting my escape, even if it never actually happens. Last year I fled to Hawaii in the middle of an arctic blast, busting through drifts at 4:30 am to get to the airport. This year, not so much.
We are having a mild winter, despite predictions (take that, Farmer's Almanac). Forty degrees and raining in January? Not normal, but I'll take it. Hiking without snowshoes in many places? Okay! We have had one "cold" snap, and it wasn't even below zero.
Even better, there is enough snow in the mountains to satisfy skiers, while it remains mild in the valleys, so there is a minimum of whining from winter lovers. I can still run on my local trails, yet put on snowshoes for higher elevations.
Of course, we still have a ways to go, and I might spend February buried in layers and cursing myself for writing this blog and jinxing myself. But I choose to think positively. There is more daylight every day, and today I saw a rainbow arching over the entire valley.
I choose to believe that spring is right around the corner.