This is the worst time of year. Winter, which began as a Christmassy celebration in December and became a blustry adventure in January, is just a drag now in March. The snow on the ground is heavy and dirty. Every day it melts a teeny, tiny bit more. What’s the delay? Why not melt all at once and give us some crocuses already?
And yet, it’s the best time of year. March is like the Thursday night of the year. The entire spring and summer are full of potential. This summer, we say, this summer we’ll grow all our vegetables and we’ll go to the zoo and we’ll go camping like we always mean to. I’ll get great abs by bathing suit season. We’ll finish all the home improvement projects we meant to finish last summer. Etc, etc.
This time of year, everything is on the way up. Including the temperature.