|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.