March is that perfect drama of death and rebirth. The Easter season is acted out in nature as early daffodils are smashed by late snow and resurrected by early spring sun.
I worry that too much of my focus is on death. I spend a lot of time outside in the winter and supplement with vitamin D, but late winter brings back the loss of my wife and the weight of long nights.
The days are growing longer and I’ve returned to being outside near sunrise. I can feel my focus turning to the life-affirming resurrection of Christ. The darkest days and the brightest days pushed up against one another.
I thrive on that edge between light and dark. I am a child of my birth month.