Rites of Spring
A small farming community is, to me, the best place to notice the changes. It starts with farmers' hats. From thick and warm (some with flaps) to well-worn cotton - that's the first sign. Then from coats to heavy jackets, moving to the light-weights - not quite ready for only shirts yet.
Just as the scilla and daffodils finish blooming, the traffic jams start - heavy tractors pulling various farm machines behind them, dragging the traffic to a sedate 5 miles per hour. But no one honks their horn - this is, after all, the town's lifeblood. Then the sit-down mowers start traveling the streets - some looking for potential summer employment, others because it's the easiest way for their elderly owners to get around.
It's when the tillers get hauled out, and the new vegetable gardens get marked out that you know for sure there'll be no more snow.
Gardeners have a sixth-sense about those things, you know.