It feels like break-up, Alaskan style.  The vaporizing snow is sinking almost visibly, shoveled piles dissolving from feet to inches in a single day.  Icy water streams over rocks and streets and sparkles in the sun.  It's not quite warm, but not that cold.

Birds materialize from everywhere. They hop from icy branches to sidewalk to steps.  They mercilessly mock the cat, quivering at the window swishing his tail and chittering in the back of his throat.

It's bike in the shop day.  Summer tune-ups in the midst of the snow.  My fingers are a little stiff and cold fastening it onto the rack.  The strap on one side is broken, so I tug the bungee cord tight to hold it secure.  It feels so good to pull it down and roll it into the shop, to talk with the technician about repairs and trails and rides to come.  Another stop and promised new strap and a season of riding is ready to begin.