There's a vicious rumor going around that global warming (or climate change; you pick your own euphemism) isn't real. Or if it is, then it is God's work. Or something.

I can't speak for God, but something is going on. It's January, and the daffodils are blooming. In Washington, D.C. If things keep up the way they're going, the cherry blossoms will be blooming in a couple of weeks.

Winters in North Carolina are mild, but the winter of 2002 was especially so. The crocuses (croci? I just don't know) were going nuts at the beginning of February. On the morning of February 17, when I was somewhat occupied with getting my wife to the hospital so that our first son could be born, I noticed that our daffodils had bloomed. Daffodils! In February! And a kid on the way! How cool!

I've carried that memory for almost ten years. I believed that the early flowers were a good omen of some sort. And since we've moved 200 miles north, I figured that I would never see February daffodils again.

Well, I haven't seen February daffodils again. The daffodils bloomed on January 25.

Yes, this is an exceptionally mild winter. But so far this January we've had five days in the 60s and another nine in the 50s. And the 31st is forecast to be mid-60s as well, which means we will have spent half of January in late March-like temperatures. You don't think something is going on?

Coca-Cola thinks something is going on. They had that whole "Buy a 12-pack of Coke and we'll give 'Save the Polar Bears' a penny" promotion. But there are those who would still deny.

I don't have a lot to say about this. The daffodils are blooming, the redbuds are budding and even the azaleas are thinking about opening up. And it's still January. I don't mind the weather (I like temperatures in the 50s and 60s, as a rule), but this is a bit weird. My kids are getting a bit cranky about the lack of snow, and I'm starting to get disturbing erotic dreams about ice storms (this almost drove me mad when I lived in Florida).

I don't want winter to give us a miss. Like the trees, I need some down time to reprocess and get my brain right with the new year. Right now, it feels like the baseball regular season is about to start--and pitchers and catchers haven't even reported yet!

Enough. I'll enjoy the daffodils and the Presidents Day Cherry Blossom festival (only six weeks early).

The only thing I can say for sure is that it had better be cloudy on Groundhog's Day, or Phil will lose all credibility.

Jon Worley likes winter a whole lot better than summer.