It seemed that way from my perspective, anyway. No long winter goodbyes, no siree. It's time to pack up the sweaters, shove them into the storage closet, and slap on the sunscreen. Chicago, on the other hand, teases you mercilessly. You never really know if you'll be wearing a jacket into June, or under some emergency heat wave health order to stay indoors.
Buds linger before becoming leaves and flowers.
I would wear shorts in 55-degree weather and sprout nary a goosebump. It was tropical compared to months of wind chill and snow drifts as high as my car. Sometimes, we get a March or early April blizzard here in Winston-Salem. Within three days, you're in shorts again. I can live with that.