Oh, oh, we missed the coming of spring again. The media told us just when it would arrive in our climatic zone this week. We made a mental note. Then we must have mislaid it.
Now spring is here, so everybody says. But how can we be sure?
By the birdsong outside the breakfast window? By the new green spears from last year's chives picketing a corner of the bare garden? By the urge to wash a car that suddenly seems even dingier?
Or does the proof of the season really lie in the spring we see - don't we? - in everybody's step?