This is not spring. It's the middle of February and any gardener in town can tell you that the frost will not be out of the ground till mid-May. A week of slashing tropical gales has, however, melted off most of our snow and sent it streaming towards still-frozen storm drains. Everyone is out chipping ice, trying to find a way to drain the flow away from buildings. The nights are still crisp enough to skim the puddles with ice, and it poured rain on me out of a blue and sunny sky. I repeat: this is not spring. It sure is messed-up weather, though.
