A stroll down James Creek Road in Pope Valley is a visit to the country, and you see some sights you don't see in Angwin. Here they are in the numbers, as counted last Saturday afternoon: 12 horses, 6 jet black cows with white faces, 2 brown steers, 1 pheasant, 1 llama, and a flock of 25 turkeys. Go. Take the kids.

We know it's winter in Angwin when the first rains come, after months of cloudless skies. When the hillsides turn green, when the first snows fall in the high Sierra and the kids clamor to go skiing, when the snow geese from the Far North descend on the rice fields, when the Pacific storms throw 20-foot swells against the Sonoma coast, when our neighbor lady covers her favorite plants against a freeze, and you have to push the cat out the door in the morning.

But even on our shortest days, we knew that Springtime would be a-coming.

Today, the yellow mustard is blooming in the leafless vineyards, and early flowers are dabs of color all around town. Daffodils, violets, and quince. The smell of daphne is in the air. Everybody's acacia trees are blooming. So are the bay, the camphor, the odd loquat, the almond, the plum, and the manzanita.

Tomorrow . .. well, maybe a freezing spell, a week of rain, or a snowfall on the cherry blooms. Mother Nature saying, "Hey, don't get in too big a hurry, down there."

But today, Angwin is a splatter of Springtime colors against a blue sky. And the reassurance of the poet rings true: