Springtime in February

We must be having some other place's weather; blue skies, sunshine, the flowering trees getting ready to do their stuff. This is just wrong. It's obviously a mistake. February in Seattle is rainy, chilly, damp, and gray. Mostly gray. Even after living here for 15 years I'm suspicious of spring weather in the middle of February. I fear the bulbs emerging from the soil so early are doomed. I've been permanently scarred by Michigan snowstorms at the end of April. You can't trust this weather. It can't last.

But so what?

The demented whippet is racing madly around the yard, flying through the dog door and into the house with muddy feet, and back out into the yard, sounding like a one-dogpower freight train as he thunders across the deck. Ernie has found a patch of sun. He's trying to get a tan. They're not worried about how long it's going to last. They're enjoying it now. It's good enough for them.

It's good enough for me. I saw a pair of bald eagles out my window this morning. Tomorrow morning I'll bundle up and have coffee outdoors. It may not last, but I'll enjoy it while it does. I didn't want to do my taxes anyway.

Some greyhound friends are planning a walk around Green Lake on the first day of spring. Ironically, it takes forever to make the 3 mile walk with a bunch of greyhounds because so many people stop us with questions, and we talk up greyhound adoption. I'm looking forward to it.

Even if spring is not here yet, for real, it will be here eventually. I'm looking forward to it.