Spring is the season of the year that inspires more hope than any of the other three. So, when I heard in January that Minnesota was in line for an early spring, I was ready to believe it might arrive at once. That hopeful thought lasted right up until I looked outside and saw the thermometer diving well below zero. Winter rules with unmistakable cold authority and always must have the last word.
Still, spring in Ely never makes a grand entrance. It refuses to arrive in confidence, and we have seen repeatedly how it tiptoes in and then often retreats behind another cold front. It tries again to sneak in with politeness — quietly and cautiously, as if unsure whether winter is truly ready to leave. The snowbanks shrink a little at a time, rooftops begin to drip in the afternoon sun, and every car in town soon carries the same muddy badge of the season. Even before the ice is gone there is a feeling that something has shifted -- a softness in the air and a light that stays just a little longer.
