Imbolc Bloodroot Moon
It has come to that brittle point in any winter, the time when it seems to stretch on and on and on. Snow tonight, perhaps 2-4 inches. Then drops to single digit lows for three days in a row. The high for the first day of spring 18. The low 4. Outsiders to the north cannot understand, but this makes us happy. Last year on this date the temperature was 80. 80.
There was no yearning for the end of winter. No, a fear that winter might be gone pervaded our region. Had we become a northern latitude Indianapolis? What did we do in our gardens in March? Most Marches we still have snow on the ground like we do now.
Yes, as we age those slick sidewalks give us pause. But what gives us more pause is the northward march of what we’ve always considered southern temperatures. In March. We’re used to hot. We get up in the 100’s from time to time, more recently. We put up with it the way southern folk endure a spell of 50 or 60 degree weather. Unhappily.
Cabin fever, that claustrophobic I’ve been in the house way too long feeling, that hits us now? That’s the brittle point I referred to in the first paragraph. We all know it at one level or another. Well this northerner, and I’m sure I’m not alone, would not trade cabin fever for fevered temperatures in March. It just doesn’t feel right.
