Hope springs eternal.  It happens every year: as winter winds down, each day seems to advance the transition to spring, to promise the arrival of sun that actually warms. Until, that is, the transition suddenly stalls and winter tries to return. Then there is an awkward period of to-ing and fro-ing when spring and winter seem locked in a battle for supremacy.  After a slow start, we had a good winter, with good snow, good light. It was even cold. There was no rain. And up until the Shutdown, the skiing was great, maybe the best in five years.

But with the Shutdown, there was no longer any incentive to root for winter or winter activities.  At first, things looked good; longer hours, bright light, sun, shadows, animals. The sun was bright but cold, not spreading much actual warmth, just enough for day-time thaws before night-time re-freezes, just enough to encourage hope for an early spring. 

Heated by the sun, leaves melted through ice layers on March 28.

An ice shelf lingered over reappearing pavement, refracting the sun, on March 30.

Vehicles reappear.

After driving around for an hour looking for moose, I returned home, frustrated.  Only to find this moose browsing on our sidewalk easement.  

Steller jay warns us off.

But the sun and semi-warmth were premature.  An April 3 snow shower covered the trees.

The pale sun offered no warmth to frigid birches on April 4 or comfort to observers.