Millions are seeing a ray of hope — if not sunlight — spreading across the fruited plain as the Obama administration takes its first, faltering steps towards who knows what.

Me, I'm still feeling the Big Chill wrought by the current cold wave. Thank the Lord, relief is in sight. And not in D.C.

The best thing about winter is knowing it won't last forever. And for my money, the two most hopeful signs that spring is nigh take place in Florida in February: the opening of baseball's spring training and the running of the Daytona 500.

I prepare for both in ways suitable to my age, health and marital status. Where baseball is concerned, that means I no longer use spring training as an excuse to meet my buddies and dash to south Florida for fishing and fun between grueling sessions of watching grown men hit, pitch and shag fly balls.

In recent years I've happily settled for watching select spring training activities on TV when and where I want. (This also allows more time to learn the Atlanta Braves' new roster).

So far I've been in prime form when the official Opening Day pitch soars in April.

And I still get fired up for the Daytona 500, the racing classic that opens each new NASCAR season.

I've never been to the 500, but it still gets my motor running because I can enjoy a similar thrill right at home. From the comfy front seat of my riding lawn mower. This is a relatively new treat for me. Most of my adult life, I lived in places that sported yards a small push mower could handle. The new, improved spread is way too large for that nonsense.

I admit to having a secret thrill when I broke the news to my bride that the yard would have to be tended on four wheels. She didn't bat an eye. In fact, after the first few mowings, she was thrilled to death to discover I'd be spending several hours each week out of the house and out of her hair while I prowled the grasscovered potholes in search of every last weed, onion or blade of grass.

I like it, too. It's not as much fun as the time I clocked 143.2 mph at Atlanta Motor Speedway during my 30-lap tenure at the Richard Petty Driving Experience. But mowing has benefits you won't find behind the wheel of a race car.

On the track you have to worry about things like staying alive. Not in my back yard. On the mower it's quite easy to think, relax and be totally unproductive without fearing death, destruction or total destitution. It's like golf, but cheaper.

Instead of dodging a few thousand pounds of opposing race car, you just have to avoid disabled chipmunks. Plus, sweet gum balls and fallen tree branches are easier to handle than knocked-off car parts or chewed-up tire chunks.

It gets so good that sometimes, even when the grass is fine, I'll take the mower out and terrorize the turf just to have an excuse to get away from it all.

I cranked the mower to celebrate the new year. So far, I haven't checked to see if it survived the inaugural freeze. I'm about to find out, and if that baby still runs, I'll be out any day now working on my 2009 Daytona moves.

The inauguration is over, and I'm ready to roll. It might be cold, it might be windy, it might even snow. I don't care. With each loop of the lawn, I'll be reminded that spring is on the backstretch and coming fast. Anyway you cut it, that's a good thing.

(Send your e-mail comments to: alex@ newnan.com)