My daily commute brings me 45 miles direct west, out of the hills and into the flat lands of western Massachusetts and the Connecticut River valley.
At this time of year I leave the Berkshires with snow on the grown and frozen lakes and the only sign of spring is the change in the light.
Moving east on highway the snow gradually disappears, the hillsides are bare the woods have that empty flattened look with an occasional pile of dirty snow left behind by the plows.
I arrive where there is no snow, the temperature 10 degrees warmer and spring is definitely in the air. I can be sitting in my my sunny office and talking with folks at home and they describe the heavy snow that is covering the ground and making a mess of local travel. Yet just a short distance away it is a different world.
Then at the end of the day and into the weekend I return to the land of winter. Return to Narnia before the arrival of Aslan. Only there are no ice queens here and spring will eventually come.