Ahhhh, March. That
psycho month where Spring arrives and Winter refuses to exit.
When I was a kid, I hated March. First of all, there are no school holidays in
March. It's a long month of endless
blah. Second, It comes in like a lion
and leaves like a lamb … a very, very pissed off, psychotic lamb. Third, it's cold and blustery and raw. Oh, sure, the sun is stronger, so if you're sitting
in your car with the rays beaming down it's almost warm inside your vehicle. Almost.
But step outside, and you might as well be in the Arctic Circle in the
dead of Northern Hemisphere's winter.
Years of spring sports have convinced me that March is not
the pleasant end-of-winter experience it is romanticized to be. It's the month of multiple layers, heavy
jackets, extra socks, multi-purpose gloves, car blankets, and stick-on foot/hand
warmers. It is also one of several months
of snow storms, both Nor'easters and Alberta Clippers. Just today on the way to an outdoor lacrosse
game, it started flurrying during warm-ups.
How ironic is that? And how
ironic that they're called "warm-ups" when there's nothing warm about
the early schedule of college spring sports, which start in February and are
just … warming up … in March.
When I was a kid, I hated March because I considered it the
coldest month of the year.
Now that I'm an adult, I don't mind it so much. Quite frankly, it's a surprise not to wake up
dead some mornings, and that certainly would put a damper on things, not to mention
that would be the ultimate chill.
March may drone on, be cold, and lean toward psychosis … but
so do I. Despite all its faults, living
through March is certainly better than the alternative.
