Hamburg awoke yesterday morning under a blanket of fresh snow. While winter here was mild again, spring, which officially started a week ago, has been as cold as a li'l witch's itty bitties. So far, Saturday's bonfires haven't had much effect.

Bonfires are among Germany's Easter customs, and they're especially common in the north. Going back to a pre-Christian tradition meant to drive out winter and make the fields fruitful, they've come to symbolize the resurrection of Christ. Mainly, though, they're beacons for Teutons looking to party.

Hamburg's "Easter fires" (Osterfeuer) are lit after dark on the evening before Easter Sunday. They're built at various places in and around the city, including private yards and in front of churches. The biggest are on the banks of the Elbe, the one in Blankenese -- an upscale western district with villas perched prettily on the hillside by the river -- being the most popular.

That's where me and the missis went. We rode out on the suburban train, walked through the district center, descended a steep stairway to the shore, and there it was: a huge, crackling bonfire spewing sparks into a black sky. A large crowd of people had gathered around it, some, sitting up close on a stone balustrade, silhouetted eerily against the dancing flames. Boats strung with lights and filled with sightseers floated by. An occasional airplane flew low overhead.

We warmed ourselves by the fire for a while, then strolled along the sandy beach. The line at the stand with grilled sausages was long, so we got a herring sandwich and mulled wine. We felt fine.

Despite the blazes all over town, everything was firmly under control. Germans are real sticklers for safety: Firefighters, and their equipment, stood by in full force. My biggest worry was whether I'd trip over a fire hose and break a leg.

Last night it was freezing again. Hey, spring: ready or not, come!