March reminds us of beautiful beginnings


“A windy March is lucky. Every pint of March dust brings a peck of September corn, and a pound of October cotton.”

— Julia Peterkin

I remember the excitement of March in my childhood, and several black and white photographs snapped by my mother long ago remind me of the joy of it all.

Mom planted crocus bulbs in the fall and in my early years I was sent outside to see if they were poking up through the chilly ground. Such a feeling of importance, getting to report the slow progression.

“That means we are one day closer to planting corn!” my dad would say, and I felt proudly responsible for his happiness.

One of his favorite sayings that stays with me is “gosh, we couldn’t farm without ya!”

He would hold out his index finger for me to reach for with my little hand, and say, “Let’s see these flowers you and your mom are talking about.”

Dad nodded and agreed that those little sprigs of green meant he could start getting ready for spring planting.

March in the rural heartland is a great and hopeful month. “Every cold and dark phase ends and hence begins a beautiful phase of warmth and vibrance. Don’t believe? Just notice March,” said Anamika Mishra.

Warmer days found us in the machinery shed, pretending to be of great help. It was time to get the corn planter and necessary implements fine tuned and cleaned up. I remember feeling the bitter, gusting March winds, and realized we weren’t quite done with our winter coats and gloves, in spite of sunshine trying to fool us into thinking otherwise.

Ernest Yeboah is quoted as saying “Only those with tenacity can march forward in March.”

The biting winds that usher in spring can level the most enthusiastic spring fever in no time flat. Hold on tight to your hat, everyone.

One of my favorite quotes, written by Caroline May, goes like this: “March, when days are getting long, let thy growing hours be strong to set right some wintry wrong.”

And last, Ana Mishra writes, “March is an example of how beautiful new beginnings can be.”


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Judith Sutherland, born and raised on an Ohio family dairy farm, now lives on a 70-acre farm not far from the area where her father’s family settled in the 1850s. Appreciating the tranquility of rural life, Sutherland enjoys sharing a view of her world through writing. Other interests include teaching, reading, training dogs and raising puppies. She and her husband have two children, a son and a daughter, and three grandchildren.



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