If you live in Canada, the northern half of the United States, or large parts of Europe and northern Asia, you know exactly what I’m talking about. March, like May, is the month that simply refuses to make up its mind.
One day the sun comes out, half the snowbanks melt, and you start thinking, Maybe this is it. Maybe winter is finally over. The sidewalks start to appear dry again, the days are noticeably longer, and you can feel a little warmth from the sun that hasn’t been there for months. You even hear the occasional bird that sounds optimistic about the season ahead.
Then the next day the temperature drops again, the sky turns gray, you’re experiencing yet another six inches of snow, and you’re putting away the hoodie again and putting on the heavy winter jacket, wondering why you ever trusted the calendar in the first place. After all, why should you trust March when any type of weather can happen and always does?
March is nature’s version of a practical joke. It teases you just enough to make you believe spring is right around the corner, only to remind you that winter still has a few tricks left. And if that cold snap happens on a Saturday and Sunday, it somehow feels worse.
Weekends are supposed to be when we recharge. Instead, we look out the window at gray skies, cold wind, and that lingering pile of dirty snow that seems determined to survive until May. The optimism from those earlier sunny days disappears quickly, replaced by the familiar feeling that winter is dragging on just a little longer than it should. By the time mid-March arrives, most of us in the northern part of the world are simply tired of winter.
Not angry. Just tired. Well, maybe we are a bit angry because a few days ago a lot of snow melted, but then the skies opened up, and we got another dumping of the white stuff – enough to make the roads slick again and the plows come out.
After months of cold weather, shorter days, and endless gray skies, even people who normally enjoy winter sports are ready for something different. Boots, bulky coats, icy lakes, and shovels have lost whatever charm they once had back in December.
But here’s the strange thing about March: as frustrating as it can be, it’s also the turning point. The daylight is increasing quickly now, and the sun is climbing higher in the sky every day. Even on colder days, there’s a subtle difference in the air that wasn’t there a few weeks ago. The light looks different. The afternoons feel longer. Somewhere beneath all the lingering winter weather, spring is slowly pushing its way back.
You can feel it. Winter is losing its grip, even if it refuses to admit defeat.
So for now we deal with the strange mood swings of March. One day, the sunshine lifts our spirits and makes us believe the worst of winter is behind us. The next day another blast of cold air reminds us that the season isn’t quite finished yet.
We complain about it. We joke about it. We check the forecast far more often than we should. And then one day it happens.
You wake up in the morning and something feels different. The sun is brighter. The air is softer. When you step outside, you realize you don’t need the heavy winter coat anymore. What was once a snowbank is now a giant puddle. People notice it immediately and are in a better mood.
Suddenly the sidewalks are busy again. Neighbors who have barely seen each other all winter stop to talk. Dogs that have spent months walking quickly through the cold are suddenly taking long, happy strolls again. Someone opens the first patio table outside a café or restaurant, even if it’s still a little early in the season.
It’s the first truly warm day of the year, and everyone seems to feel it at the same time. After months of winter, it feels like the whole northern half of the world collectively exhales.
Until that day arrives, though, we’re still stuck in the strange in-between season that is March – the month of teasing sunshine, stubborn cold snaps, and weather forecasts that seem to change by the hour. But we know something winter doesn’t seem to realize yet. Its time is almost up. Just hurry up, damn it.
johnberkovich.com 