EDITORIAL: Is that winter's white flag we see?

Let’s see a show of hands.

How many of you transplants first fell in love with North Idaho during a visit in late March or early April?

Nobody?

Well, that figures. The end of winter/start of spring can inflict a blood-drawing whiplash for the weather-weary. It’s misery multiplied. After months of cold, rain and snow — and the dreadful mixture of all three that sogs the shoes and dampens the spirits — surrender seems not only inevitable, but almost welcome.

And then…

…the sun comes out.

The thermometer shakes off the doldrums and gets its mercury-powered arse in gear.

50 degrees.

60.

70?

Those who don flip-flops, shorts and T-shirts a bit prematurely are not merely forgiven; they’re exalted in their unbridled exultations, the shackles of winter’s imprisonment shrugged off like so many damp coats.

What’s really interesting in North Idaho is that when spring finally settles in with some serious blossom-blooming and sunshine-spackling goodness, the pinched, angry faces around you begin to relax.

Elevated middle fingers from irked drivers morph into upraised thumbs, one patient driver’s acknowledgment of a motoring kindness bestowed upon another.

Happiness goes up in direct proportion to car windows going down.

Perhaps for the first time since the last Christmas package was unwrapped, joy is more than a notion; it’s real.

Because now, North Idaho, the promise of glorious summer begins arriving on butterfly wings. And if we were to ask for a show of hands, how many transplants first fell in love with North Idaho during a summer visit, why, we’d see a forest of upraised limbs.

So cast off your cloaks as denizens of the dark and enjoy the gradually milder weather ahead, showers and sprinkles forgiven.

And pay no heed to the jerk who reminds you that Mother Nature’s spring blessing also opens the gates to agonizing months of seemingly endless road work. Remember, spring is merely a reprieve from seasonal cynicism, not a cure.