“Marching Into April...” (A March Lament)

 by Cynthia Adler

 

“I had plans,” she said. “I wanted those first few days of March to blast out some major winds, maybe a gale or two, and some very uncomfortable heavy rain. But what did I get? Nambie pambie trickles, and 57 degrees on the 3rd? Really!! I couldn’t even get up a decent breeze. Then a few days later the weather report was saying that we might even get a day in the mid 60’s!! This is pathetic! And truthfully, for me, that kind of temperature made me wonder if I was having hot flashes or something! I have been around for a rather long time, don’t you think? Since the Roman Empire at least! And I started to wonder if this was some kind of signal that maybe I should fold up and give my month over to April. She stays young, charming, moist and fresh all the time. Even her rainfall is gentle and calming. She could pop in right after February, (who’s a hot hunk, by the way,) and who knows what could happen there? But hey... I’ve done some robust workouts myself, you know, a tornado here and there, and well, maybe there comes a time when you just have to move on! Quite truthfully, I don’t think I’ll be missed.”

I thought I saw some tears start to form, and I suddenly felt a bit of a drizzle. “March,” I said, “get a grip, girl! You are not old. You are only old if you think you are. You are an eternal month, appearing at just the right time to bridge Mr. February to Miss April. We need you. And that is true no matter what degrees you happen to hit while you are bargaining with the frenzied Wind Gods. And...think about this. Count your hot flashes as a gift to a portion of the planet that has frozen their butts off in the “February Freeze!”

There was silence for a few minutes, but then March turned to me and I started to see some pride and sass come back into her energy field. She said that I really helped her in this short but pertinent interview, and she could start to see the nature of things in a different light. Then she said that maybe she could now enjoy the St. Patty’s Day parade, and not try to blow the hats and the instruments into the stratosphere with some vicious and intense wind, as she had planned to do.

I was touched by her honesty, and before I left, I asked her what would make her happy, and she told me to walk for a bit, and that would give me the answer. I didn’t know what she meant, but after I had been walking for about ten minutes, suddenly a huge frosty wind, blew my bag right out of my hands and twirled my hair around to look like a crazy mop. And then, I heard some really heavy laughter in the direction I had just come from. But when I looked back, I could see nothing. Nothing at all. Only the sound of the wind.

Xoxoxo Cynthia

 


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