The rainy season isn't over yet, I shouldn't wonder, but today's gorgeous weather was portent that the worst is over.

I remember growing up in New Jersey, there would be that one day in March or April, on rare occasion in February, when the temperature would rise to 45 or 50 degrees, and the sun would be shining and the sound of running water from snow melting, and it felt so good to walk outside for the first time in a short sleeve shirt. It didn't mean Winter was over or Spring had arrived or that the last of falling snow had been seen. But it was nature's embodiment of hope.

We don't get that here, where night time lows may be around 45 or 50 degrees, but I guess today was the wet dishrag equivalent. It was nice enough to head out on my bike for my first ride of the season.

But no, the hope was there, in the views of the bay from Aquatic Park, from a jetty near Crissy Field, and from the Legion of Honor in the Presidio. Just in being able to head out without the oppressive rains and clouds of December. In the sky still being light after 5 o'clock, and the sun light coming down at a respectable angle.

It will rain again. Hell, it rained last year in May. This was just to say that December wasn't for forever.