Thursday, March 14, 2013

Ides of March

March Morning, the Scioto River 


On this Ides of March eve, I contemplate change. In the original Roman calendar, March was, very appropriately, the first month of the year. By this time, snow has melted to pre-spring neutral. I adore everything winter ... the snow, fresh cold air, woolly clothes, and the comfort food that goes with. But this year, even I am anticipating green. I have a new-found appreciation for all things pink. It's still a bit on the chilly side, but I have a window open in the Willow Manor kitchen, and a big bunch of pink tulips. I may even take the Christmas wreath off the front door, in celebration.



23 comments:

  1. Go on be a devil and leave the wreath all year round

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. As of right now...it's still up...it's still fresh, fragrant, and hasn't dropped a needle...

      Delete
  2. Here the "freshet" has begun. The river is rising and the snowbanks yield to mud. The year is in puberty . . . very inelegant at present but soon to be beautiful.

    Enjoy!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I find a certain beauty in this inelegant, in between time...

      Delete
  3. Willow Manor ~ where warm whimsey and womanly wisdom are always in season...and woo wooo woooo blows the the March wind...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Yes, beware of the Ides of March. Caesar took it lightly! But pink tulips? Aha! It's such a joy! Nicely Tess!

    Hank

    ReplyDelete
  5. Not so inelegant here in the south - it amazes me how green things are already! I'm a "northerner" born and raised and this is the time of dirty snow...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Still little bits of snow in the nooks and crannies here today...and the foliage various shades of brown...soon now...

      Delete
  6. Spring has arrived here in Missouri and I COULD NOT be happier!!

    ReplyDelete
  7. I have pink linen sheets -- the color of pale roses. I am going to make my bed up with them and thank you for the reminder.

    ReplyDelete
  8. We have a pink Amaryllis on our kitchen table. Not my favourite, but quite spectacular. I also recommend leaving the wreath; it saves time putting it back later on.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Dear Tess,

    There was a time I had tulips in my life.

    I am so excited, had to share. Did you notice - Arian is back. And his writing is as brilliant, with images, his blog is breathtaking!

    ReplyDelete
  10. Snow covering most of the ground again here and gloomy looking, with more white stuff on the way....Doing green here for St Patty. Funny I referred to the Ides too; well great minds.....

    ReplyDelete
  11. Those are beautiful tulips; well worth sacrificing the Christmas wreath for!

    ReplyDelete
  12. Is there a large change in the making? Beautiful color. Nice to have the window open too. Bit too cold here still for that.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Excellent blog here! Also your web site loads up very fast!

    What host are you using? Can I get your affiliate link to your host?
    I wish my site loaded up as fast as yours
    lol

    Have a look at my website: hawaiian cruise

    ReplyDelete
  14. Yes, and yes!! Am braving the chilly temps to run outside and gaze upon my crocuses (crocii?) and snowdrops, and the small bulges at the tips of the daffodil greens poking out of the dirt.

    ReplyDelete
  15. I love March simply because it's the month of transition, where it gets milder gradually and the flowers all come out. It's been a slow transition this year, and whenever we think the worst of the winter weather is over we get another snowfall, but I like to think Spring is getting here slowly

    ReplyDelete
  16. Love the woods along the river and the tulips. Our spring comes early and fast here in AZ. We will soon be into summer before your blooms have faded. This year we even got some snow in February, but it didn't last long. There is a different feeling to the earth when winter gives up reluctantly and spring creeps in slowly, then bursts into bloom overnight! Enjoy it while it lasts!

    ReplyDelete

Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)