This morning it was murky but mild, and, in the distance, way down in Wyandotte, I heard the cattle-like lowing of the foghorn’s mournful call as I walked out the door. I set out for a brief respite from the confines of the house, eager to get a breath of fresh air that was above the freezing mark.

The words “Spring Fling” are far from racy or suggestive as regards this title … not in the least. They are, for me, just the almost-ceremonial first day after a long and cold Winter where the bulky clothes are cast aside in favor of lighter and more-seasonable ones.

I actually get more excited on the first day I feel the warm Spring sun on my head, or, when I return home from a walk carrying my jacket or sweater looped around a finger or slung around my waist. That’s a feel-good moment for sure.

But I felt compelled to recognize the Spring-like day after the brutally cold weather we’ve endured these past two months.

So, as I walked out the door this morning, it was sans the scarf, and the mittens were replaced by more-fashionable gloves. I also banished the boots, ditched the down-filled parka and shucked the Sherpa hat.

What item is the next to go?

Well, I’ll never tell.

Ahhh, a flirtation with Spring is good for the Winter-weary soul.