Twenty-five may not sound warm, but relative to past temps, it is. Old Man Winter has released his iron grip, and all the not-artifically-heated world is relaxing. The birds are happier. Pax is happier, and I am happier. Pax and I had two good, long walks today, almost completely pain free.

And, of course, Green Bay beat Dallas.

The birches are scattering seed upon the snow.

And the mice are happy in thier subnivean zone, hoping a real thaw is a long way off.