Sunday, March 17, 2019

Melting Sunflower Tears

March.  Oh, you miserable month.  

The only positive you bring is Alek’s birthday.   

And yes.  The great event of St. Patrick’s Day rests in the middle of the month.  How can we forget? 

That day in March when anyone with a drop of Irish blood in them has the right to partake, and should partake, in gorging themselves in alcohol and corned beef brisket.  
The glorious corned beef brisket with potatoes carrots and cabbage.  It seems like the brisket doesn’t last long when served.  You’re lucky to get a second helping of the beef.  
Now the cabbage and potatoes… there’s always enough to go around 3 times.  We all know the brisket is the star in the meal.  And everyone wants more and will fight over the last bit of corned beef.

Outside of these few events, the month of March really sucks. 

March is full of anxiety.  

The weather can’t make up its mind.  

Yesterday, here in Central Indiana it was sunny with a high of 60 degrees.  The wind was a tad chilly, but it was gentle.  The warmth of the sun had a refreshing feeling against our sickly pale, vitamin D deprived skin.  

It felt nice.  

People were out and about walking their mammal pets.  

Migratory birds were making their presence known by their various calls.  

It was a nice day.  

A day to say, “Hey, the cold winter is almost over.  I can feel spring in the air.”

This morning, it was snowing.  

It was a short-lived snow shower.  It did a good job of giving a good ground cover.  Like maybe we might see a few inches by the afternoon.  

But just as quickly as the snow started, it stopped. And within an hour after the snow stopped, the snow was gone.  

Melted into the muck’n mud of the brown barren countryside landscape that winter brings us in central Indiana.  By mid-afternoon the sun was trying to show its face.  It was warm enough to get outside to play, or accomplish whatever outside with just a light jacket.  

New River West Virginia,
Ndyakanoff Photography
Oh, March.  You tease us. 

You give the crops and gardens hope of warmer days to come. The tiniest signs of spring show up with the smallest of green sprouts trying to come out to show us the beauty of life.  

You give us hope of no longer seeing bleak brown farmlands and gardens but lush green vegetation.  

Warm days and long summer nights to come. 

Oh, March you tease us with the signs of what’s to come. And then you shut us down.  You blast us with another cold reminder that winter is still here.

And for that, I thank you.  

I thank you for delaying the coming season.  The season full of beautiful colors and warm days with blue skies.   The season where you wake up warm and comfort.  You look forward to letting the sun kiss you all over.   You look forward to going out and doing adventures outside. 

But when you do go out you become paralyzed.  Paralyzed by the humidity that the spring and summer proudly brings.  The humidity that can melt you down to a pile of goo the moment you step out in it.  Humidity that is always there no matter the time of day, sucking the life out of you. 

So go on March.  Please continue to hold back the inevitable.  Blast us with just a few more weeks of cold.  I am in no hurry to get into the humid months to come.  I do not want to be like the sunflower in the picture below.  Engrossed in magnificent green all around.  Admiring beautiful flowers and a magical monarch.  At the same time, peddles melting away by the Indiana humidity.  

This Alaskan loves the summers for all that it brings but the humidity.  
Soon, I will be just like the melting sunflower.   

No comments:

Post a Comment