The weather, on the other hand, is behaving as though this were early March. From a dawn filled with golden light that sneaked under the lingering overcast, to an afternoon of blue sky decorated with the most languid of pillowy clouds, the day seemed about to coax new green leaves from the bare trees, and bird songs drifted through the near-balmy air. The town's watercourses are all flowing full, and even the roadside ditches carried hurrying streams that might have been taken for spring snowmelt.
A bright day was a nice change from the recent grayness. It probably didn't seem springlike in the valley, though. I could see the fog blanketing the landscape below as evening fell. The crescent cup of the waxing moon has now dipped among the pines, and Orion is rising. If the night should remember that this is January, that valley fog might make its way up the ridge tonight, though even if it does, it will most likely vanish with dawn. The next storm is due sometime Friday. To me, at least, it will be as welcome as was this dry and mild respite.