miller's crossing

 

I like March snow. I think March is a month of genesis. Our perceptions of March, however, have everything to do with attitude. More than any other month, I think March is misunderstood, maligned and rejected. I am an advocate for the month of March.

The potential that lays dormant beneath the snow sends me a charge as I sit thinking about it here at my kitchen table. I can see wet snow clumps falling from limbs and branches. Splattering on cars or being received by the damp snow covering the sidewalks and yards.

I love the juxtaposition of snow and water. I walked to the lake last night where rivers of water were breaking up the ice. Something is released. The covering cracked. The dry and the wet -- frozen and melted. Water molecules configured in different ways. May I have the flexibility of water when it comes to arranging myself.

We've almost reached the precipice of Spring. Nearly able to see what lies ahead. Sensing change. Suspended in the frozen/melt of ice/snow/water. We're at 31.98 degrees F or 32.01.... To simplify, hovering at zero C. What is zero? What is melting? What is solid? Liquid? Gas? This is where we are -- hovering and sloshing at change potential. When is the moment? Is there a moment?

Regeneration. That's the best word I can come up with to associate with March. It's not totally satisfying, but close enough to leave here for now. I am an advocate for regenerating oneself. Take these moments to sense the melting. Slosh around in yourself. Those snowmen and women of winter are stumps soon to be vanished. What is to be revealed beneath?

Ideas, anyone?