After the heavy ice and freezes of the recent winter, spring has sprung with a vengeance. The fig trees are in full fig, the big ash tree has sprouted new leaves so vehemently that it's like autumn, except the leaves are green. The foxtail ferns and mother-in-law's tongue, after being killed off, have started growing back, great banks of cleavers are swarming over everything as they do every year and the canna lillies have returned to their advance out of the flower bed and into the yard. The red oaks, after a brief dalience with leafing, suddenly erupted with pollen, more than any previous year I recall, and my pet cactus, the Spirit of San Saba, is starting to sprout yet another head to go with the four already present. This burgeoning growth even extended to the rain gutters, filled with several years of composting leaves; as a result, yours truly this past week found himself perched upon a wobbly ladder dredging great handfuls of dirt out onto the yard below, as well as upon himself. With daily highs in the 80s, I'd say that winter is past and possibly spring will soon join it among the Accomplished Things of the Past as the new summer arrives with a furnace blast.