There’s snow on the daffodils, but lately the sunny bulbs appear to be winning the race for spring over winter (ignoring for the moment the depressing lack of sun the Island seems to have had so far this year).

The lilac in the dooryard is wearing fat buds, and visions of bouquets in jelly jars and Memorial Day parades dance in the head.

Potted chives are staging a brave comeback.

The winter coats live in a halfway house these days, somewhere between the closet and the box where they are stored for summer. They stand as the symbol of the Vineyard’s spring mood: April just hasn’t quite been herself this year.

Soon the herring will run, followed by snapper blues and fat striped bass. Soon the windows will be thrown open to warm air in mid-morning and closed again at night against the cool fog. Soon the hay will be up and then down. Soon the farm stands will open with spicy radishes pulled from dark earth, asparagus cut the same day and the first tiny strawberries of the season.

Soon enough.

The signs are all in place: summer shopkeepers have begun to return from their winter haunts, kids are out on bikes in down-Island towns, high school spring sports teams are coming out of the gymnasiums and onto damp, greening athletic fields.

Meanwhile, Islanders continue to live in a state of suspended animation, waiting for April to become herself again.