Early on this chilly March morning, I’m sitting in front of my computer with an ice cube in my mouth.
It’s 25 degrees, windy and bleak outside, and the heat hasn’t kicked in, but I’m moving the large cube, more like a rectangle now, from one side of my mouth to the other.
Yesterday I thought, “okay, time to do the ice exercise – this will be easy.” But yesterday it was a balmy 39 degrees and sunny. The buds on the trees looked hopeful, as if they truly believed they would have a chance to warm up, pop out, and live once again.
This morning, though, is another thing entirely. The wind is blowing frightfully, and the trees are closed up tightly, like a woman who first thinks she’s going to give herself to a man, but then he says something really stupid, and she closes up, physically as well as emotionally.
Yep, there’s March for you in a nutshell. It teases, it flirts, and then it slams the door on your face, the door that would lead to sunshine and warmth, blessings and life, light and love. KaBlam.
I used to hate March. It’s my birth month, so when I was a child, and even a young adult, I thought that March should be what I most love – a month full of warmth and laughter and sunshine. Year after year in New Jersey I lived through a March that offered cold, damp, unappealing weather.
I finally gave up wanting what I couldn’t have. I guess that’s what’s called “maturing.”
Then again, look at this. The ice has almost melted. It is now just a tiny sliver in my mouth, shrinking rapidly. The heat from my mouth has diminished it, changed its shape and its sting.
I’m the winner now. I suck it down like a cool glass of water and gloat.
Okay, March, bring all you want to me. Just go ahead. ‘Cause you know what? I’m going to win in the end anyway. Spring is just around the corner, and when the crocuses sneak out of the snow and the hyacinth starts to smell like a patch of heaven on earth, winter will be a long distant memory.
My ice is gone. Cold air is still blowing outside, but I know what’s nearby.
Sure, maybe I’ve matured, but I’ve also decided that even if I shouldn’t want something that I can’t have, I ought to appreciate everything that I CAN have.
Like a March full of love and laughter, anticipation and melted ice.
(Ice thanks to Google Images. Other photos by Pamela S. Wight)