Since many humans live for weekends, Wednesday, often referred to as hump day, represents the last hurdle before our downhill slide toward better days. While it is welcomed as a sign that we have survived the first half of the work week, it is also a reminder that two more days of stress and tribulation stand between us and our weekend rewards.
March, the first calendar month of the northern spring, arrives before winter has thrown in the towel. While the darkest and coldest months are behind us, the fickle weeks of March are not always as spring-like as we might prefer. Indeed, in the American Heartland, this month is renowned for its raw weather, muddy landscape and all-too-slow progression. The days may be longer and the greenery may be advancing but the glory of spring has yet to arrive.
March is a wonderful month for waterfowl watchers and college basketball fans but, for many in the Midwest, it is just a damp, gray, chilly interlude between the stark beauty of winter and the fragrant, colorful warmth of spring. We are, after all, impatient, tropical creatures, inclined to dwell on the past but always rushing toward the future. Focused on April, we slog through March in our parkas and boots, worried that global warming is but a myth.
