March is a funny month, isn’t it? Neither winter, nor Spring – just a whole lot of in between. The days creep along in anticipation and promise of Spring, but it never quite delivers. The shift in the light when we turn our clocks forward for Daylight Savings seems to happen quite suddenly and when 7PM rolls around, the light that lingers is a bit disorienting as we adjust our own internal clocks to the seasonal change. But what bliss it is to commute home while there’s still daylight out!
March also feels like a reality check. We can no longer say that it’s the new year and push things off because we still “have time”. No, we’re fully entrenched in 2015 and time is subtly pressuring us to push forward and face our new year goals (if you made them) before it gets too late. I don’t know about you, but this is how I’m feeling these days – slightly pressured by the calendar over here – and there is so much that we need to do.
March is also one of the slowest months of the business for us. It never fails when the month rolls around to start questioning everything (the one exception being last March when sales went gangbusters for a few reasons). For the most part though, we expect it, brace ourselves for it, and we plan for it, but it still doesn’t take the edge off whenever March rolls around.
The girls and I found ourselves near Greenwood Cemetery a few weeks ago at the start of the month and decided to take a quick walk. Even though much of the snow had melted from the city sidewalks, it remained a few inches thick on the grassy hills of the cemetery. It was a jarring juxtaposition entering the gates and seeing snow again when our eyes were finally adjusting to the piles melting and gone from the sidewalks. It was a nice walk, albeit a bit cold that day, and there wasn’t anyone there (as is often the case), so it was quiet. I’ve always loved Greenwood for its history, the monuments, and the narrow cobblestone walkways. I always wondered what it looked like in the snow. As the girls wandered around, crunching snow from their boots and picking up sticks, I walked by myself some yards behind them enjoying the quiet. The snow was blinding as the sun reflected off the ground; the sky was a brilliant blue. I wasn’t sure how I would feel walking through a cemetery now that these places have more meaning for me, but I didn’t really feel anything. Maybe the cold just numbed my thoughts.