Spring is teasing, is peeking out from behind the snowdrifts, is pushing winter back from the edges of the road, is whispering at us.
“You'll soon be up the lake,” it says and we try to resist, not wanting to be pulled into winter's game. It's not really spring. It's winter in disguise, trying to fool us.
It is still February and we can't let our guard down. There still is snow to be shovelled, windshields to be scraped, and bad roads to be maneuvered, but what a lovely hint of what is to come.