Springless in Seattle

A mixture of rain, snow and sleet raining down on the cherry tree.

March is a horrible tease.  Her weather menu changes constantly; she consults no one about their preferences.  One day she might serve us a beautiful Spring day, complete with sunshine, singing birds and newly opened blossoms.  The next day (or even hour) brings bone chilling temperatures of 37 degrees, with frost edging newly opened leaves.  And the several layers of fleece and wool I'm still wearing are not enough to stave off my shivering.

When the cold isn't enough misery, March has other weather for us to sample.  She may decide to darken the skies to a shade of grey so deep, it tricks our light-activated walkway lights into thinking it's night.  And the deluge of rain coming from these clouds is so heavy it turns soil into soup, and dampens any spring-y hopes that were emerging in our souls.

For the winter weary, this weather menu is exhausting.  It is the daily struggle between two seasons:  winter and spring.  And I find it impossible to stay off of this particular roller coaster.  My moods shift easily with this shifting weather.  On a spring-like day, the warmth on my skin, the sweet smells of blossoms, fresh earth and the fragrance I can only label as "green", make my heart feel light. And then on the dark and stormy days, I feel the cold in my bones and I am lethargic and irritated.

This unpredictable month is unsettling.  And clearly, I am not the only one who is unsettled.  But perhaps my expectations were too high to begin with?  This morning's Seattle Times had an article titled, Yeah, it's cold out; so what were you expecting?  A local meteorologist claims that our seasons don't relate to solstices or equinoxes.  He says that Summer is July and August, Fall is September and October.  Winter starts in November and lasts through February, and "there's no such things as Spring".  I tend to agree.