I have a kind of love/hate relationship with the month of March.
I love March because it is the month when Spring arrives. It is the month when daylight begins to last longer than night. It is the month when the air starts to warm up a little, even in upstate New York. All these are good things.
March is all these things. Yay, March!
At the same time, let’s face it. March is still cold and always wet. March is just as likely to give us more snow to add to what we already have as it is to give us gentle rains to wash all that snow away. And March is ugly, really truly ugly. All these must be endured.
And March is also all these things … and more. Ew, March.
THIS IS THE MONTH OF MARCH IN UPSTATE NEW YORK
~> This is the time of year that the skunks wake up and toddle sleepily onto the highway to become the first road hash of the season. Somebody invariably will run over its musk sack, stinking up the air for ten miles in whichever way the wind is blowing.
~> This is the time of year when the snow slowly melts all day, as soon as the temperature slides above freezing, only to refreeze again at night when temps drop down into the 20s once more.
~> March is when that stuff called snow, that some people tell me they like, is at its dirtiest and ugliest, turning to piles of nasty dark gray stuff that looks like a combination of ashes and dirty ice.
~> March is when it snows heartily immediately after you put your windshield scraper into your trunk because you think you won’t need it anymore. Same goes for furnaces and boots and scarves and coats.
~> And March is the month where, even when you do get rid of all that snow, you’re left with a barren, sodden brown and gray landscape, sans any green that will come later with leaves and grass.
The best thing about March is that it leads to April and May. Especially May, by which time I think we can safely say it will be warm again … even in upstate New York.
By now, no doubt you are wondering why I haven’t followed the ageless advice of George Carlin’s Hippy Dippy Weatherman: “If you don’t like the weather … move!“
Well, and if it was that easy … if I was 23 and had no responsibilities … I would. But I’m not 23 and I do have responsibilities and I’m not in a position to just go somewhere and trust that, if all else fails, I can sleep in my car for a little while. I have laid my plans. It will take time for them to bear fruit.
Meanwhile, I think I have made it through to the tag end of what somebody promised me was going to be the worst winter we were going to see in awhile in this part of the world. Let’s hope they were right.
Let’s hope that next winter will be relatively mild and gentle, and that it will be my last winter in these parts.