March has many images in my mind. Windy, rainy, blowing in the spring on wings of bluster. When I was growing up in south Florida, it was already 90 degrees on most days in March, so it held less transitive meaning to me. But now, living in the north, the seasons live once more in the cycle of the year.
March is a time of cleaning out the staid, squirrelly shut-up home of the winter with fresh new breezes. It’s a time of hope, looking for the warmth of the future spring. It’s a time of planning, getting set for activities in the summer.
And it’s a time of mud! Yes, squelchy, messy mud everywhere. Sometimes still gripped in the slush of winter ice, sometimes in a glorious warm brown sludge. When I was a child, of course, this was reason alone to be out in the wonderful playground of the Great Outdoors. I would search the still-clinging remnants of snow for the first crocus heads to burst through their white cloaks into the cool air.
But today, with work obligations and the knowledge of whatever I dirty I have to clean, I am more circumspect in placing my feet. That’s is, perhaps, a sad thing indeed.
What are your March memories and impressions? What makes you think of March?
Don’t miss information on Celtic myth and history, as well as practical travel planning tips, and hidden places, in my travel books.
– Better To Have Loved
– Legacy of Hunger
– Stunning, Strange and Secret: A Guide to Hidden Scotland
– Mythical, Magical, Mystical: A Guide to Hidden Ireland
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