My Navy son is stationed in San Diego, a palm tree-studded oasis of warmth and sanity in Southern California, a city with the distinction of having the best climate in the nation. “The weather is here, wish you were beautiful!” the text read. If only.

Some days I fantasize about predicting the weather in a sunny, warm (boring) city. It might be fun for a couple of weeks, but I’d be climbing the walls before long. The variability, the seasons, the weather-specific traditions, the ebb and flow of the seasons? Those are the things I would miss.

And it’s not like we’re having a polar vortex winter — we gripe when it gets below zero. In the ’70s we had consecutive weeks below zero. This is still a pale imitation of the winters your grandparents muddled through.

A clipper brushes southwest Minnesota with snow today. I see an inch or 2 Sunday, followed by a sweeping thaw next week as Pacific air charges east; 30s and a few 40s are likely.

Is this the last significant cold shot of winter? Probably. Spring is coming. Trust me.