When I grew up in the Bay Area and lived in San Francisco, I was under the assumption that Spring sprung in February. Every day was straight rain in January. Then the next month, magic happened: grass turned from brown to green on the 280, magnolias opened, leaves sprouted new growth and sunlight transformed from winter white to its pre-summer golden springy hue. My reality check came in 1999 when I moved to New York City. There, February gets to your bones with a windchill of -1˚F (sometimes less) and by March, my body is in full-blown shock. Now we're in Los Angeles, and totally down with a season-less climate.