They say March comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb.
The weather here is certainly living up to the 鈥渓ion鈥� part of the equation so far.
The other day, I headed out for an early dinner with family. It was lightly raining as we pulled out of the driveway, began sleeting within two minutes, which turned to heavy hail that turned the road into a slushy river.
The sun was out again by the time we got to the restaurant.
On the other hand, whether March actually goes out like a lamb is debatable. Maybe it鈥檚 more of an ornery billy goat that鈥檚 decided to give us a good kicking.
Some years we get a bit of mild weather, sunshine, and a weeks-long shower of cherry blossoms.
Other years, it鈥檚 more random bouts of hail, incessant rain, or late cold snaps that leave farmers chewing their nails bloody.
Despite this, early spring remains one of my favourite seasons.
The best thing about March: it鈥檚 not February.
February is brief for a reason. No one could take a full 30 days of that month. At 28 days, it鈥檚 at least twice as long as it needs to be (and don鈥檛 get me started on Leap Years!).
Yes, there鈥檚 Valentine鈥檚 Day, a desperate attempt to enliven the dreariest and greyest of months. Slathering mid-February with pink hearts is a bit like trying to dress up road kill with tinsel.
It鈥檚 useful to remember that in ye olden days, many European countries marked the start of the new year in late March or early April, around Easter or other significant religious celebrations.
That makes sense to me. February feels like the last, lifeless husk of the old year. Then along comes March, all new energy, both destructive and life-giving.
The days are longer, and soon they鈥檒l outstrip the nights and keep expanding until the glorious long twilights of June. The frosts will recede, the winds will die down, and green shoots will emerge everywhere.
There will still be some bad weather 鈥� we鈥檙e still in Canada, after all 鈥� but March is the beginning of the end, at least.
