Rain, Probably.

The fancies are wanting it to rain on us, and a quick sniff out the front door says it smells like rain, says me and says the dog, so: it's going to rain. You heard it here. Not first, but you heard it here. The radio said sleet by morning, and I'd love that, but don't get your hopes up, schoolkids. Too warm. Too everything else. Come morning, the sidewalks will be wet, but whatever's due now will still be due then. I wish I could tell you something else, but I just can't.

Let's see, weatherheads: you want updates? The drought slinks back across the Piedmont. Daffodils bloom in spots across the city. The gray-green here is greener by far than much of what could be seen from the air back from 60605. We're not far from things happening. It's going to rain. A helicopter circled the neighborhood for the better part of half an hour tonight, rattling the old windows here. Chilly week in progress, but not cold.

February: no real season at all. One of those interstitial-type-deals.