When I was younger, March was painted blue, and I found its accompanying mood hard to shake. The end of winter and Easter couldn't come soon enough, the skies always seemed to be grey, and everything felt monotone. Maybe I'd hit my limit for darker winter days.
But things have shifted over time. Having a child to celebrate mid-March helped somewhat... and buying the odd bouquet of tulips... or maybe it's the optimism that naturally arrives with age and wisdom? I'm seeing the light increasing in a way that I never did when I was younger.
At any rate, it's a bright sunny day, I've hung my first load of laundry for 2017 on the clothesline outside, and I'm singing happy little songs to March, whose blue is now sky blue. It's so good to see the sun getting a little higher in the sky each day, the daylight lasting a little longer, the waxwings flying in their swooping murmurations, and the brown patches wearing through the white coats of the jack rabbits.