I hate to see winter end (especially because the family plague has kept me from going for one last ski), and of course (I say hopefully) we could still get a good March blizzard, but I think today's the day that spring began. This afternoon, Shannon opened up the patio door to catch the clean southerly breeze, and nobody froze. All day, I watched the recession of the snow between our house and the line of trees fifty feet to the south; the full span was covered in snow this morning, but only about ten feet remained when, at dusk, a magnificent sunburst lit up our dining room. Boreas has left the building.