Had this been March 1, the month would have certainly “come in like a lion.” We started the morning with a drop in temperature. By noon snow was falling, fast, wet and deep, blanketing everything, including the chickens, who continued to forage for awhile until finally retreating under the coop or in it. By nightfall we had three inches.
Today was “leap day,” February 29th. It might be short by just a day or two, but the month always flies by. Several events take place in February: Cherisse’s birthday, Valentine’s Day, the long President’s weekend. February 16th marks the anniversary of my father’s death (although I much prefer remembering his birthday, April 1st). So the month barely starts before it’s over.
Most years March seems interminable; by then I am desperately sick of snow and cold. We’ve barely had a winter though, and this year, whether March comes in fierce or mild I think spring will arrive early. Already the crocuses, daffodils and hyacinths are popping up. Unless they become completely confused by the constantly fluctuating weather (or get eaten by squirrels and chickens), we’ll soon be treated to a display of cheerful pastel colors. Always a welcome sight.