It seems like every year around this time, winter makes one last-ditch effort to impress us. After days, or weeks, of unexpected warmth, shortsleeved shirts and open windows, the temperature drops and the wind picks up. It’s as if all this time someone, somewhere, has been asleep at the wheel and has only now remembered that March is supposed to come in like a lion and go out like a lamb. So we bundle ourselves up, turn the heat back on, and try not to act too surprised when, after a month of almost-spring, it starts snowing again.

I don’t think I’ll ever learn to appreciate central Pennsylvania weather.