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There is something about this stretch of late winter pretending to be spring that feels like the region is trying on different outfits in front of a mirror.

The past few days have been a little indecisive. Not unpleasant, just… unsettled. Gray mornings that take their time waking up. Temperatures hovering in that middle ground where you hesitate at the closet. Jacket? No jacket? Regret either way by noon.

Old timers used to say this kind of weather meant the mountains were “breathing.” Cold air slipping down the hollers at night, warmer air pushing back up during the day. Like the land itself could not decide if it was done with winter.

We had that brief tease – a soft warmth, almost generous. Enough to crack a window, let the house breathe a little. You could feel it in the air, that subtle shift where winter loosens its grip just slightly. Not gone, never that easy, but distracted.

Some folks call it “false spring.” Others say it is when winter “steps outside for a smoke,” which feels about right. It never means winter has left. It just means it is taking five.

And then, right on cue, the clouds rolled back in.

Rain threatened, sometimes followed through, sometimes just hung there like it might. The kind of weather that keeps everything muted. Colors dull down. Sound carries differently. Even time feels like it slows a notch.

There is an old saying you still hear now and then – if you get thunder before the trees bud, expect one more cold snap. Not scientific, maybe, but around here it has a way of lining up just often enough to make you pay attention.

Looking ahead, the forecast reads like a conversation between seasons that cannot quite agree.

A warm push toward the weekend. Real warmth, the kind that makes you think about sitting outside longer than planned. Maybe even short sleeves if you are feeling optimistic.

Then, just as quickly, the reminder.

A sharp turn back. Wind picking up. Temperatures dropping like someone flipped a switch. The kind of cold that rolls down off the ridges and settles in low, the way it always has. The kind people used to blame on “the mountain holding winter a little longer.”

And yet, underneath all of it, something has changed.

The cold does not feel permanent anymore.

Even when it dips again, even when the wind cuts through, there is a sense that it is temporary. The days are stretching out. The light is sticking around longer. The sun, when it shows up, has a little more authority to it.

Some say you can tell spring is close when the light hits the slopes just right in the evening, when everything takes on that softer, almost golden edge. Not quite green yet, but no longer fully asleep.

You can feel the season turning, even if it is doing so in fits and starts.

How it all fits together:

Recent days: mild, cloudy, a little damp, the mountains “breathing”

Near term: warming up into that classic false spring

Early next week: a sharp cooldown, just like the old sayings warn

After that: a gradual climb again, winter losing its argument

If you are planning anything, the move is simple. Take advantage of the warmth when it shows up. Do not trust it completely, but do not ignore it either.

Around here, spring does not arrive all at once. It circles. It tests the ground. It tells a few stories first.

And if the old wisdom holds, we have at least one more cold reminder coming before it finally settles in.