Spring Comes in April

The Good Life: A Year of Thoughtful Seasons by Sarah Mattison Buhl

March Revelation

March is the worst of its kind. After traveling through the inky darkness of  winter, we arrive, weary, on the doorstep of March.  March tells us, wide-eyed, that he is the official herald of spring, a time when daffodils shine in abundance.  The most desperate among us will crack the bedroom window allowing March to sneak in. I’ve known March a long time, and while I still want to believe he is the real deal, I finally know better.  Spring comes in April…

The only daffodils you will see in March are perched in small buckets at the market , tightly bundled in rubber bands, waiting like hopeful showgirls to be chosen. If you are optimistic enough to crack the window at night, you will almost certainly need to turn on your electric blanket. March will leave you cold. He is a lying Lothario. I am through with him for good this time!

Cabin fever has left me feeling hopeless and morose. The extra minutes of sunlight each day offer little solace. After too many snow days buried alive in the house that I share with four other people, a hermit crab, a gecko, a hamster, and a hedgehog, I had a revelation; The kind that makes the universe whirl in harmony for a split second. As a relative introvert, I always assumed that snow days were made for people like me. But by bedtime I was literally throwing my children in bed and nailing their doors shut behind me (figuratively). Snow days are a nightmare for an introvert like me, but warm and fuzzy family time for my hyper, extroverted husband. An extrovert stuck inside can’t wait to get out and be with more people. An introvert wants everyone else to get out. Thus, my revelation.

Years ago, I read a newspaper story about a woman who left her family behind, and journeyed alone to the National Cathedral in Washington DC. She stayed. Her husband was baffled by her behavior, but I imagine her luxuriating in the colossal quiet, wrapping herself in the cool air, and resting her eyes in the soft, dim light. I am certain she was an introvert. I don’t know how long she stayed, but I’ll bet she didn’t give herself up right away. March made her do it.

Here is my advice: plant seeds indoors in misty-warm containers. Drink maple syrup from tiny teaspoons. Ignore March. Do not under any circumstances believe he has brought spring. April is a worthy suitor.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sarah Mattison Buhl

As a mother of three, Sarah appreciates the extraordinary beauty of the ordinary. She makes her home with her family in Northampton, MA.

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