Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes. The wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year.” – Ogden Nash
While sports enthusiasts are ranking basketball teams and working brackets for the N.C.A.A. basketball tournament’s March Madness, I am hedging my bets as to when the weather will finally turn warm and the last icy flurry will disappear.
March has always been a maddening month for me. Weary of winter and being wrapped in warm tights, scarves and coats, I am ready to spring into new projects, toss off my heavy clothes and wake up and smell the flowers. But Spring is just a tantalizing tease, and winter is still whipping at me. It’s S&M or “Spring versus March” The yin and yang are at odds. The Lion is still roaring, and the Lamb is still hiding.
March was destined to be maddening. The month is named after Mars, the Roman god of War but also the protector of agriculture, or the guardian of gardens. The astrological symbols for March are the Pisces the fish and Aries the ram. March is wet and wooly, fishy and stubborn
March has its followers and detractors. Basketball fans look forward to the tournament and the madness of losing and winning. Those of Irish descent have Saint Patrick’s Day, which legitimizes going mad for the day wearing green, drinking green beer and turning rivers green. Passover and Easter usually start or completely fall in March. It’s a wonderful time of year to celebrate these two holidays so rich in tradition, but it can be maddening trying to reach anyone during Holy Week for business. Everyone seems to be taking a break away. It is Spring break for most schools after all. Last week half the people I called were away or about to leave for a week or two. One person told me to call her back in three weeks; she had to cook, host and then rest after Passover. Having grown up educated in the story of Passover I always think it is odd when people talk about having to slave in the kitchen to prepare for the Seder. The whole point of the holiday is to celebrate passing over from slavery to freedom and the finally enjoying the privilege to relax.
March was not a great month for the Roman emperor, Julius Caesar. “Beware the Ides of March!” on the 15th was a forewarning to his assassination on that date by members of his Senate. My version is “Beware the Brides of March!” Six years ago on March 17th Mother Nature pulled a rude joke on my wedding in New Orleans by sending a winter storm into New York. About 30 friends and family missed the festivities due to cancelled flights. Brides: pick another less fickle month for a wedding if you have any loved ones living in the snow zones.
Shivering in the inconsistent weather, slushing through the streets, working with my C.P.A. to file and pay taxes, weary of root vegetables, cool on heavy comfort dishes and wondering why I am not wintering somewhere warm in the Caribbean or Florida can make me Mad as March Hare. But then on a rare warmish March day in New York City a Mr. Softee Truck comes out to serve ice cream. Some guy decides to wear shorts in the city showing off his spindly winter white legs. And I dig through my closet of black, put on the brightest colors I own and go out to seek signs of Spring. I look for tiny green blossoms in the ground and visit restaurants to sample the first asparagus and ramps and morels. I like going to the park and seeing new parents taking photos of their babies’ first Spring. I celebrate Daylight Savings Time and looking toward longer and warmer days.
March reminds me that life may be fickle but you need to keep the faith. You have to take the good with the bad, and the winds can turn at any time. But you march onward and move forward. And even though it is commonly referred to as “the cruelest month,” I am a fool for April!
