February though it is, spring is well underway in the Pacific Northwest. No need to feel envious, thought, if you're still blanketed by winter in the east; when the moutain snows stop this early here, it usually means we pay for it eventually with a summer drought.
Meanwhile, though, THIS is the kind of spring (even if it is months too soon) that makes me love this corner of the world. Water drips from everywhere; the rustle of rain is a constant underscore; the insistent bright green of first leaves is just starting to appear, like they're attempting to gauge the weather. It's a beautiful but somber sort of a spring -- not the delirium of, say, D.C.'s cherry trees or SoCal's wild poppies -- but I prefer this. The triumph of mushrooms, moss, hellebores, particolored lichens, newts and banana slugs.
Cascadia's spring is perfectly captured by this ancient (1967) song by Donovan Leitch.