A Parade Of Lions, A Parade Of Lambs

That’s March.

In like a lion, roaring and throwing around all sorts of weather, then leaving some weeks later as gentle as can be imagined. Or so the folk wisdom says, and you can bet this bit of wisdom doesn’t come from the United States Weather Bureau.

March may, indeed, roar in and it may, just as indeed, gently depart. Between those dates, however, you may see most anything: sudden warm weather, a bad snowstorm, unseasonably warm and/or cold temps, flowers blooming, heavy rains.

It’s a strange month, if I may say so without insulting those 31 days and making the time even worse. You can expect everything during this period, almost as if Ma Nature decided to throw all her leftover scraps of weather into the wastebasket and decided this would be a good one.

Little bit of cold weather here, some snow there, warm days later, sleet, then overcast for a week, three days of sparkling clear nights. All of this into March.

It’s a furious month, a witch’s caldron of atmospheric changes and sudden, unexpected storms. A few days ago, it was 50 degrees when I got up, dropping quickly as the sky clouded over and the rain began. As stride pianist Fats Waller would say, “One never knows, do one?” No, one never knows.