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M AR C H Charleston, SC
E s c a p e t h e o r di n a r y
March comes in big, like a lion, and its roars bring sudden big blooms of periwinkle and fuchsia. The azaleas color our world in the South, they hang in there while we’re predicting when the next cold front will arrive, or can we call this spring yet? We bundle up in chilly mornings and shed layers throughout the day as the mercury rises in the afternoon hours. Time to think about that pedicure and open-toed shoes, time to drive home with the sunroof open, time for the pollen and breezy afternoons when the wind whispers, “Spring has sprung.” This is the big time when the summer heat is still weeks away and we can walk the streets without breaking a sweat, stop and pause long enough to see the time lapse of leaves budding on bare trees. The soothsayer’s warning to Julius Caesar, “Beware the Ides of March,” in Shakespeare’s tragedy imbued that date with a sense of foreboding, but it’s just the 15th on the Roman calendar and we prefer to celebrate it as the Romans did— by indulging in wine, song and celebration. This is a time of good hair days, wind whipping our skirts, evenings just chilly enough for a light sweater, time for outdoors, for new buds turned blooms, the bright sky that reminds us of how small we are in this big old world, and the brand new green grass that’s made for lying on your back and looking for shapes in clouds chugging by as the world keeps turning, turning, turning.
Cover Art: Jackie Besteman
“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.” Charles Dickens