Savoring March

By Beth Yarbrough

If Elizabeth Barrett Browning had not already written it, I would be singing her song to the month of March: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Winter may be throwing a few frigid winds toward the upper reaches of the South, but even there, daffodils and forsythia are stepping up to say “enough of this”. And in the lower reaches of our region, azaleas are already showing off.

I spent Wednesday driving across neighboring South Carolina, and the experience reminded me of everything I love about this time of year. The peach orchards of Edgefield County have thrown a luxurious blanket of pink over the land, promising fresh peaches for miles, come summer.

Willow trees are green, and the strawberry fields are coming to life. The slant of the sun’s rays, no longer so low in the sky, coaxes everything out of hiding.

We linger outdoors after supper, happy to find excuses in the garden that normally seem like chores any other time of the year, simply because we can, simply because the daylight encourages us.

By this time, even the intrusion of a rogue snow shower or hard freeze isn’t enough to set us back. Instead, we take it in stride - knowing that the long Southern summer is enroute and, once it arrives, will be with us until sometime around Halloween.

I truly love the month of March. After two or three months of talking myself through the winter with hopeful phrases that I have shared with you here - more for my own benefit than yours - March is the time when I finally heave a sigh of relief.

And with no apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning, allow me to also echo a few favorite words from the 1884 composition by Michael Watson, rendered famously in the 1960’s by the community choir of Mayberry, North Carolina.

Welcome, sweet springtime, we greet thee in song. Murmurs of gladness, fall on the ear.

I’m so happy at this point that I would even be happy to give the entire solo to Barney Fife.

Photo by Beth Yarbrough.