Not to complain of course, since nature has long since shut down her complaints department, but a week into April we're still searching feverishly for spring. Tardy this year, by a wide margin. Spring has always been a world-class procrastinator in this region of the world. Not sure, have to check my daily diary but I'm convinced by this time last year the snow and ice had all melted.

Certainly, yesterday's all-day rain has made a bit of a difference. We can actually see some snow-free lawn here and there, and in the backyard the snowpack has degraded substantially. The garden feels convinced that spring has arrived, I can see tiny red buds on the Japanese quince, and the ornamental crab trees, and even fat, ready-to-burst buds on some of the hydrangeas. A miniature rose bush that I'd planted in the garden from its summertime perch within a container has managed to  get through the winter and it too has tiny beautiful red bulbs.

In the ravine, where snow has receded in places alongside the trails there are green shoots on the forest floor. But though the creek is in full, muddy flow thanks to the rain and whatever of the snowpack has melted, there's an awful lot left to go.

Even on the bridges over the creek the snow and ice has a depth of at least a foot. It's recalcitrance is anything but admirable.

Still, there are spreading patches of bare forest floor here and there where the sun, when it does see fit to shine, has helped melt away the snow, and there are also deep-cut runnels in the snowpack where snow-melt is running convincingly enough.

Complaints? Not me, just observing. We'd gone out in the late morning, hoping to avoid the afternoon rain we've been informed is on the way; rain mixed with snow, if  you like. It was cold, damp and windy, the wind moaning through the forest canopy, tree masts clacking and the wind that blew its way at our level did its mischief as well.

Spring? It's on the way....