Toronto is considering the concept of spring. Snow continued every few days for most of my absence, and only began to seriously melt in the past few days. I returned in time to see only vestigial curves of ice and scatters of snow loitering against north-facing walls. The trees are bare, the sidewalks grey, the grass muted olive. I have not looked in many places, but there are no hints of spring flowers yet.

In England, spring arrives in February, early March at the latest. The daffodils were in full glory, the temperatures in the mid-teens (Celsius). The glow of crocuses and other small flowers littered the verdant lawns. Budding trees were not long off. I left London to a crowd of spring rainstorms after a week of mellow sunshine.