Perhaps yet...

Got my first taste of spring last weekend while in St. Louis, where the season has advanced a bit farther than is evident around home. The shock of actual crocuses! The sharpness of a birdsong! I find myself on a wavelength with Thoreau:

Each new year is a surprise to us. We find that we had virtually forgotten the note of each bird, and when we hear it again it is remembered like a dream, reminding us of a previous state of existence. How happens it that the associations it awakens are always pleasing, never saddening; reminiscences of our sanest hours? The voice of nature is always encouraging.

Thoreau's Journal: March 18, 1858

Thanks, as ever, to Thoreau blog to these transhistoric tidbits...