After years of living in Chicago, the weather here in southern France is pretty much a dream come true. Sure, when it rained this fall, it poured (which wasn't pleasant before the roof got fixed), but the locals say that so much rain was abnormal. And it has been cold this winter -- cold enough that we wear long underwear, you do need a winter coat, gloves and scarf, and you'd be a lot happier with a hat when the Mistral blows. But it's not like what we're used to putting up with.
I really don't want to jinx things and I know what Punxsutawney Phil said just a couple of weeks ago, and as soon as I type this sentence I'm going to knock on wood just in case, but it looks like it may almost be spring here in Aix.
We went on a randonnée, or walk/hike, in the area around Aix yesterday and we saw this little crocus peeping up through the mulch. So is it spring? Well, I don't know. It's only mid-February, but it was in the upper-40s, there were birds chirping, it smelled like spring and the sun was warm.