The air was full of bird song and the fresh scent of grass and flowers when I walked through the park last Saturday morning. The world seemed alive and I felt the urge to bound around like a hyperactive kitten or a mad March hare. (I didn't, of course. I realise I would have looked a bit ludicrous.)
Then grey clouds swept over the sky and the rain fell. It fell all day on Sunday, too, and Monday was cold and grey, making me want to stay in bed until the bad weather was finally over.
This is, of course, perfectly normal for an English March.
The Spring Equinox, when the day and night are of equal length, is only a couple of day away, on March 20. This is supposed to be a time of harmony and balance, when we celebrate the sacred marriage of the god and the virgin goddess and honour fertility rather than fighting.
Well, if that is the case, then I suspect this year's wedding is more the kind where the bride is already heavily pregnant, the best man manages to offend everyone and the reception ends in a drunken brawl between the two sets of in laws.
However, we can be confident that the wind and the rain are just winter's angry death throes in the final battle of the season as spring emerges green and victorious. Brighter, milder days lie ahead.
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