On a hike this morning to the pond at Severson Dells, naturalist Don Miller spotted six frogs in the pond. It was 49 degrees and overcast.

I want to believe that it’s just one of those years, that El Nino has warmed the Pacific and it’s affecting our weather.

I want to believe an Arctic blast is coming to chill me to the bone, to crack my lips, to make me crave a beach, a book and a cold umbrella drink.

I want the frogs to be asleep, buried in muck beneath a frozen pond.

Mostly, I want to feel normal.

This year I don’t.

A weather report graphic tracked the average temperature in Rockford for December. I don’t remember the numbers, but I do remember that the average temperature for the month was what you’d expect in Indianapolis and Kansas City — places hundreds of miles south of here.

Canoe junkies are still getting their fixes on area rivers. On Dec. 19, we floated the south branch of the Kishwaukee River. Maple trees were trying to flower as is the magnolia in my backyard. Belted kingfishers and great blue heron were still working the shallows here instead of water in Lousiana, Arkansas or where ever.

Bluebirds and robins are around. Crocus are trying to bloom. And skunk cabbages are awakening.

Last night at the Burpee Museum of Natural History, geologist Anders Carlson talked about the Greenland ice sheet’s retreat, hasty as an ice cube left too long on a warm kitchen counter.

This morning, six frogs were in the pond at Severson Dells.

I hope they go back to sleep.