Friday, 13 March 2020

On March

March is a strange month. After the middling month of February where we hope for Spring but continue to fend off the biting cold of winter, March has emerged like a shiny pound coin from the bottom of our handbag. Exciting, unexpected, but not as much as we'd hoped for. The cold wind still bites, and the rain is still frosty against our skin.

Our only reprieve from the winter cold is the myriad of Spring flowers that seem to have burst forth from their tiny green shoots without warning. The egg yolk centre of a fiery daffodil bobs and sways in the frigid winter breeze, unafraid and unabashed by the fact that no one has told the wind and rain that March is here.

Packs of tiny tete-a-tete's cling together in clumps under trees and in the corners of gardens singing their bright and joyful song. Primrose grow low to the damp ground clustered together like a group of gossipy women. Their tender yellow petals quiet in comparison to the gold and orange of the narcissus. And every so often we find the odd crocus, still holding onto its patch, shining like an amethyst amongst the sea of yellow.

As the month draws on the sun begins to peak her head from behind the silver clouds only to return back again a few hours later to her sleepy bed. Those fleeting blue skies illuminate the tiny blossom petals that have begun to spring from gnarled naked branches. Each time the wind blows a scattering of pink and white is left across the road and we feel the urge to quickly run out, collect them up and stick them back on again.

Without even noticing the days grow longer and dark nights turn to cloudy evenings. Every now and then we are treated to a glimpse of that elusive and silvery orb in the sky. In traditional English country life the March moon was known as Plough Moon due to the brightness of her glow that allowed farmers to continue to plough into the night. This year we have been treated to a Supermoon, only 357, 399km from our planet she shone brighter and bigger than we have seen her in a long time but only a few were lucky enough to see her out and not hidden amongst the clouds.

Even as the sun becomes hesitant to return to her bed we still feel the cold and darkness of those long winter nights but earlier mornings bring a reprieve. The morning chorus starts up again and we are treated to a myriad of tweets, calls and song from our feathered friends eager to start the year.

And like the rest of nature, as March tumbles on into sunnier days, warmer rain and brighter nights, we wake up. Brushing off our wintery slumber we pull our selves out from cosy evenings wrapped in blankets and oversized knitwear hiding the extra padding that kept us warm and happy in the winter season and move into the new year. A slow and quiet start to 2020 has allowed us to recoup, enjoy the cold and dark and feel reenergised to step into Spring with the vigour of nature. 

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