We’re almost there folks. By the time this Anchor edition is published, spring will be less than two weeks away.

There are several indications this is so. One, already past, is that a Pennsylvania rodent saw not its shadow, thereby predicting spring six weeks from February 2. Next, the calendar tells us the spring equinox takes place on March 19. These two indicators are not the most reliable, but I do believe we have dodged a big bullet this season in Southeast Massachusetts (and no I don’t believe I just cursed us to have an Easter blizzard this year by saying that).

But there are three far more accurate indicators of spring floating around us: 1) another Boston sports team is awaiting its fate for a suspected cheating scandal; 2) the “Tom Brady watch” has become more annoying, repetitive and nonsensical than the presidential primaries; and 3) we get to lose an hour of sleep this weekend, but that’s always a good thing — it means that the sun will set eight minutes shy of 7 p.m.

Fading quickly in our collective rearview mirrors are the days when it was dark seemingly by noon.

Yes folks, spring is on its way. There’s sunlight at the end of the tunnel, as are warm days and pleasant nights. That, of course, is if we don’t encounter two months of constant rain and wind.

In winter, the trees, flowers and plants are not dead, but dormant (right Dave and Tracey?). And there are signs already that it’s time for area flora to awaken from that dormancy.

We too, should be readying ourselves to awaken from our winter hibernation and prepare to live again.

And the best indicator of spring’s arrival is the beginning of Lent. While it is a season of repentance and sacrifice, it’s also a season of hope, of seeing that Easter light at the end of the tunnel.

While spring is not quite yet here, we are on its cusp, and it’s time for us to be dormant no longer.

And to those who emailed or wrote to me, I did get ashes this year, and I didn’t get them from a trash can or a garden.

Boy, that one took on a life of its own! Happy spring, amigos.