The first daffodil bud of spring gets taller and fatter each day. Someone forgot to turn off the hose a number of days ago. That was evident when I had to go down into the valley for some things today.

Many of the corn, wheat, potato, and vegetable fields were expansive lakes today. Roads through the fields turned into mile long causeways.

Hundreds of swans and thousands of ducks were in heaven today. For the swans it is much easier to float through a corn field than to waddle between the rows.

On the Japanese calendar, this year Setsubun 節分, the last day of winter, falls on February 3, today. I’m ready to say good bye to winter and hello to spring. On Setsubun families throw roasted soybeans out the door and yell, “Demons out! Luck in!” Many gather at shrines and temples where priests toss beans out with the crowd yelling, “Demons out! Luck in!”

Setsubun translates to division of the seasons: setsu 節 season and bun 分 divide. Technically there are four of these during the year, but whenever you hear Setsubun it is the end of winter that people are talking about.

Tomorrow, February 4, is Risshun 立春, the first day of spring. Yeah, I’ll go along with that. Why wait until March 19 when by then, winter will be a memory and spring will be in full force? Might as well get an early start to spring. Nature is. A flock of robins showed up today. If robins say spring is here, who am I to argue with them?

Fitting for the last day of winter, we had a bit of snow during the night. This morning it was an usual thick lace of slushy snow. I’ve never seen a snow like this. You can live for many decades and still see a type of snow you’ve never seen before. With infinite varieties of snowflakes, infinite combinations of temperature, humidity, wind, and what not, it’s not surprising that there are infinite varieties of snowfall which would take an infinite number of years to experience them all. Future generations will see varieties of snow I can’t begin to imagine.

These skies are befitting a last day of winter. Good bye winter, see you again nine months from now.

January was one of those months where the adage, “Thinking about moving to the Pacific Northwest? First, take a shower for six months long and see if you like it,” rang true. Many locations around here had from 28 to 30 days of rain in January.

February started on a better note, lots of blue skies, a stiff breeze, and on this second day of February it isn’t raining, so two out of two days with no rain is a winner for me.

See, this morning the sun has lit the cottonwood trees on fire. It’s odd that we don’t have different words for trees. A tree bare of its leaves in the winter is an entirely different thing than a tree in the summer with all its leaves. It’s an entirely different thing in spring when the leaves are still tender, and yet another thing in the fall when its leaves are burning red and orange. For humans we’ve got words like infant, teenager, adult. For deciduous trees we could have four separate words for when they are bare, when their leaves are still tender green, when their foliage is full in the summer, and for when they are in color.

The steady January rains haven’t stopped the forsythia from starting to bloom. Daffodils and tulips are pushing out of the ground too. All in all, it’s been an unusually warm winter.

You know I am making tofu in the cabin when you see the chickens come running out to the cabin. They are eager to get the leftovers. I’m sure they are wondering why I don’t do it every day.