The cold is easing up under a relentless sun and the snow under my feet is turning into a sorbet-like mush.
March, a long time ago, used to be the month for building the last snow forts, the kind that fortify themselves with a glaze of ice during cold nights. Getting your bike out of storage. The joyful lightness of exchanging heavy boots for sneakers in electric colours. Delicious sunlight on your frozen face. Mild evenings with woodsmoke and dogs barking in the neighbourhood.
March, not so long ago, used to be the dreaded month of working too much and endlessly waiting for winter to end. This year, I'm enjoying it.
I unbutton my heavy, green coat and flex my fingers to warm them up for my piano lesson.When March ends, I will play "Walking My Baby Back Home" during my last lesson ever. A new season will begin.
March is the month of nostalgia and preparing for new adventures.
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