It's the special time of year, which has no name, but I recognize it as a distinct season that arrives at the end of winter. It only comes around between my birthday and St. Patrick's Day - if it comes at all. Last year, thanks to the excessively warm winter, it didn't appear - or if it did, I blinked and missed it.
At the end of winter, there comes a time when the formerly extreme cold temperatures moderate, just enough so that you can walk around outside without being really uncomfortable, but the breeze is still fresh and chilly. You might even need a pair of gloves to feel fully warm, but it's still not quite winter - or at least not the typical North East USA winter, which Wikipedia tells us has the Humid continental climate.
It's the best of winter and spring in my opinion - you still get to feel cozy in your gloves and winter coat, and for some reason at this time of year you can often smell wood-burning ovens or fire places - I'm not sure why this time of year more than others - and yet there is the promise of spring right around the corner. I like spring more than winter, so I do like the change even if spring usually doesn't live up to its hype, but at least it isn't a complete disappointment compared to summer, which not only fails to live up to its hype, but is hyped much more than spring. No, I am not a big fan of summer. But when it's summer at least you know the next season is autumn, the very best of all the seasons.
But the second best is this strange brief unrecognized season at the end of winter. I need to come up with a name for it.