Drops of the late catastrophe were falling from the concrete of the balcony above at the first peek this morning. It did not freeze last night for the first time in weeks.
 
That is good. It is a month to go until the Vernal Equinox, when the days and night are roughly balanced. The term is derived from the Latin vernalis, an alteration of vernus, from the word ver, or spring.
 
It is not that yet. Not even close, though closer than it has been since the Night seized control of the clock, and cloaked us in chill darkness.

The snow and ice could return, of course. They got hammered out west over the weekend, and that front is inexorably headed our way. They are still settling the matter of winter sports at the Olympics- bless the plucky Yankee goalie  who blocked a zillion shots on goal to down the doughty Canucks for the first time in fifty years last night.

We have yet the peculiar madness of March to endure.
 
But there is hope for the first time in months.
 
It got over 50 degrees at the Farm yesterday, and I could feel the thaw in my very bones. It has been so old for so long, the rays bathing my skin made everything feel like they were melting.
 
The great banks of snow assumed the properties of plastic in slow-motion slides across inclined surfaces; where there is exposed soil the white stuff shrinks in terror.
 
The Earth has it’s own way of doing things, and we are just along for the ride.
 
The system is adamant about putting things behind us, and pretending that everything is back to normal. The parking ticket officers are out in force, imposing their paper on streets that still are not cleared.
 
Despite the warmth, knee-high islands of ice remain between the cars and the single lane down the middle of the road.
 
That fool with the gigantic Buick in the parking lot is lot looking so stupid any more; the great whale has emerged from the drifts and the thick quilt of snow has slumped off the hood and part of the roof. It is entirely possible that the owner could emerge from the safety and comfort of their unit, open the driver’s side door, and motor away as if the whole thing had not happened.
 
The rest of us are growing restive. Not to the point of mutiny, of course. Not here. We are too invested in the ways of the system to attack it.
 
On an intellectual level, we know the equinox happens twice a year, and is derived from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night), because around the equinox, the night and day are approximately equally long.
 
Pagans of the latter day use other measurements. For example, the real start of life again is 95 days away. The sun will be way past the equinox, and the balance of life will be in bright sunshine for hours after the office.
 
And Big Pink’s pool will open at ten sharp on the 29th of May.
 
Copyright 2010 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
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