Spring is here, I swear.
My sprouting sunflowers and marigolds tell me so. As do the twelve singing Alpine Swifts who now swoop above my roof. Two thousand+ storks, who passed over the Bosphorus this Sunday, can't be wrong— neither can all the green and pink buds on the trees.
Then why, why is it still so cold and grey and wet?
Face it, Winter.
Your days are numbered!