The rain has (as I expected) been more springlike than wintry. It falls intermittently, always softly, and frequently is reduced to mere mist. The clouds tonight were at times thin enough to permit the brief emergence of the half moon. The air remains surprisingly mild. The evenings could easily be mistaken for April did the sun not set so soon. This balminess has put me in a strange mood, a premature spring fever perhaps, and I have been tempted to ignore my tasks and go walking about town by night. This would be a terrible idea, of course, as I'd most likely end up being disemboweled by a deer and eaten by raccoons. That would be a sorry end to my lack of ambitions.
Delighted though I am to have at least a bit of wet falling, I do miss the cheerful noise brought by the more vigorous rains typical of the season. Parched beggars, however, can't demand a choice. I won't tempt fate by complaining.