Minutes away from March. I know that spring will not be officially here for several more days, but seasons are no respecters of calendars. It is here. The thermometer topped 80 degrees today, and I've noticed more than one tree budding early.
We had such a short winter, with only two recognizable cold snaps. Such a thing is always memorable in this part of Texas, but these were so far removed from one another as to make them seem a thing created in the mind rather than the environment.
March has always been my personal New Year. January and February are spent getting used to writing an incremented year on checks and documents, and it seems like only a few short days ago you celebrated Christmas with family. Once March arrives, there is no longer uncertainty. Things have moved on. In school, this was the busy time. It seemed that every project and paper and exam were pushing toward this time when the end of the year grew so close; just within reach. Busy with extracurriculars and enjoying the outdoors again, riding my mountain bike down dusty roads.
And I recognize the acceleration of life. The year is no longer divided up in neat little compartments: fall and spring semesters, Christmas and summer vacation, Spring Break, syllabi, midterms and finals. Work is in the same place with the same people, at least a lot of the time. The projects change, but the location of your desk rarely does.
I don't decry this; such is life. But this thought and March have something in common; this is a rendezvous point for such thoughts. It is a reminder to slow down, smell the proverbial roses, remember to not act as if this thought hasn't occurred to every generation since the dawn of time. Those moments where we slow down are special, and are one of the few things one can truly savor in one's soul. March is a time when a droplet of water on a leaf reminds you of the infinite, of the cycles and rhythm of change catalogued by the Teacher in Ecclesiastes 3. Did you know that March was the first month on the Roman calendar? I think there's something to that.
Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:34, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." And so I begin my year with these words fixed firmly in mind. (Let's not take bets to see how long they remain.) Die Freude am Frühling! I welcome it with enthusiasm, despite my lament on the passage of winter.