Imbolc seems to have settled on today to manifest itself.
Ignoring both the correct date of Saturday, and the alternate date of the New Moon, which was yesterday, today the bees are swarming around what a year ago was a baby peach tree. The air is gentle and warm-cool, and the sun startling in a solid blue sky. Spring has come again.
Not that the seasonal celebrations can ever be tied down to the human calendar; unlike sex, seasonal changes are certainly on a spectrum. There is a range of days over which the season changes from one thing to another. It's not as if it was Winter up until 7th August and then it wasn't. The coming of Spring forms a fuzzy corona around a few days in the first 10 days or so of August.
This year I have not been as welcoming of the cold as I usually am. Could be that I'm getting older, or it could be that, working from home, I have had to contend with keeping my extremities warmer at my own expense, rather than my employer's. Some nights have been so frosty and dry that the skin over my knuckles has split and bled.
And now the land is In the Belly once more. And I feel fine.