Almost listening to the birds.
Almost windows wide open.
Almost bulky sweaters packed away.
Almost frogs singing us to sleep at night.
But not quite. Because as I type this, it is snowing. Great, white flakes showering from the sky and already blanketing Jo's rabbit hutches, the naked garden boxes, the crocuses that jumped the gun and shot through the damp soil just a little too soon.
But --in Western Washington at least-- still winter.