I may have mentioned that I come from a state where Groundhog Day means eight or nine more weeks of solid winter — shadow or no shadow — and the most common hiding place for Easter eggs is a snow bank. In the land of my birth, you don’t go hiking before Memorial Day and you don’t schedule events requiring stable weather before the end of July.
I don’t mention this to people down here; there’s no point in being tiresome. But I do have to bite my tongue when a day like this comes along and people get all giddy about the end of winter. What winter? Winter in Florida, at its very worst, may mean a few days where the thermometer dips below 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Occasionally it’s also cloudy. Yes, this can be a shock for people who no longer own sweaters, but it ain’t winter.
As far as temperatures go, I like the 70s as well as the next guy. But when it gets this warm in February, you can’t help but reflect on how warm it will get in August. The answer: Mighty warm. Add in the 90 percent bugs and 100 percent humidity, and you arrive at a heat index of about 117. That’s summer in Florida. And in my limited experience, summer around here lasts until Halloween.
Just saying. Here in Florida, winter is way underrated. And for the first time in my life, I’m sorry to see it go.