I surrender! You win. I would wave a white flag but I doubt it would be seen with all the snow that lies on the ground and flies through the air.
The cold of February was relentless. The average high, a new record, didn't even make it to fifteen. Fifteen! You, Winter, drove us inside, to hide from the frostbite your miserable sub-zero winds can inflict.
Yes, Winter, you win. For now. You cannot last forever. Spring arrives this month, and with it the promise of new life and green grass and fragrant flowers. All that may be hidden now under the knee high layer of snow, but it will arrive. The birds singing at my window tell me so.