Wednesday, March 6, 2013
March Into Spring
I am a proud March baby. I grew up thinking the month of my birth was the most hopeful of all and my birthday fell on the cusp of spring. It wasn't like February, the month of exhaust-colored snow, inversion weather patterns and cabin fever (albeit, also romance). No, March came dipped in soft sunshine.
It wasn't until my adult years I started to hear people lump February and March into the same accusatory spot. "February and March make me depressed," they told me. And then there was the moment when I realized I wasn't after-all a spring baby, I was technically a winter baby. Not until the arrival of the equinox were we out of the wintery woods officially.
I am a winter baby.
But when our calendar turned March 1 this year I was surprised to feel the same positive vibrations I have noticed my whole life at the turning of the calendar. I noticed green tulips popping their heads out of the dirt and the tiny blue flowers underneath sodden bushes at Janna's house next door. The soggy grass made a promise of recovery after months of baptisms in snow and ice, and the earth let the sun stay just a little bit longer in the sky.
Yesterday we blazed outside, jumping over the hurdles of stubborn snow in the backyard. We noticed deer visitations--droppings and consumed berries in varied sizes (thought a lot about living in my house unaware while families of fauna feasted in our yard). We asked the stiff wooden play-set to give us a rumpus swing-date, which it did while creaking and complaining about its old age. Nieces stopped by on their way home from school. The sun resisted hiding behind clouds. The school bus circled the neighborhood. The bells from the tower chimed four o'clock. And we played a rigorous game of "thisbee" which is Anson speak for frisbee (but don't tell him that).
March is the month that slays the dragon-beast, winter. It's the month four-season climate dwellers feel safe to emerge from dry, dusty cocoons. March is the celebration of light back into our evenings. It's a hopeful, magical month that turns snow showers into rain showers into daffodils.
March babies are peaceful warriors.
And I'm one of them.
Please come! Women coming together to support women and education--no greater cause! No tickets or registration required! Bring your daughters! Bring your friends! Bring chocolate-covered cinnamon bears you bought at the candy counter in the bookstore!