A March Salute

I’ve always considered March, my month. My birthday is only one day but I claim the entire wild month, famous for gusty winds, changing clocks, unpredictable weather and betrayal. Even in the darkest days, there is a promise of light and warmth. Frigid temperatures and the threat of snow may still be in the forecast where I live here in New England, even into April — but the end of winter is well in sight and any fluke-flakes soon melt in the warmer rays of the sun.

Yesterday, strange hot winds gusted through in the afternoon, as if to shift the seasons, pushing the last of winter’s stale air out. This morning on my sunrise walk down the street with Rufus, I gathered branches blown into the middle of the street as a neighborly deed and as kindling for cold nights yet ahead. I’ll hold off pulling the plastic off the windows as March is a fickle month and there are still cold days and nights ahead.

But signs of spring appear rapidly around the garden. Like victors in the battle of the seasons, crocuses, daffodils and hyacinths push through decaying leaves. Branches are softening, new buds pushing through in reds and greens, softening the look of shrubs and trees. Of course I’ll love the return of leaves to the trees, the sounds like voices as they move in the breeze, the dappled light through their canopy – but I have come to love what bare branches have to offer. Better to admire fractals and easily spot a bird and see off into the distance.

March is the month that cracks winter, starting slowly, some days fooling us that spring is here on schedule before drawing back again as cold and gloom settles in for another stretch. We worry about the survival of crocuses and daffodils in night frosts. And then, like a bicycle spinning faster and faster down a hill, the weather shifts and before we know it the lawn needs mowing, tulips are spent and it’s too hot for a sweater. April and May are gone in a blink. But in March, things are still going slowly, the shift over is gradual – even teasing us, reminding us with taunts of winter-cold that now is our chance to savor renewal, re-birth and the warmth of the sun.

5 thoughts on “A March Salute”

  1. “famous for gusty winds, changing clocks, unpredictable weather and betrayal.” That last word…there’s a poem or a story lurking behind it.

  2. A sweet ode to March. I too love the bare branches of the trees, the outline against the sky.

  3. Beautiful! I love the images of spring flowers as victors in the battle of the seasons. And oh, how I have been loving these banshee winds, brilliant moonlit nights, and as you say, the long distance views through the trees. And..Happy Birthday! Big hugs! XO

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