On a March Evening

I remember making a calendar when I was a child, intently drawing, with my pack of much prized felt tipped pens, an illustration for each month.  Nothing occurred to me for March, it had no particular characteristic I wanted to memorialise, no holiday or family birthday I could think of, so I had to ask my Mother for a suggestion for what to draw.  She suggested something to show what a windy month it is.  I’d never before known about windy March, but her comment was enough to set me off drawing a picture of stick people chasing their hats.
Yesterday was one of those days that proves my Mother right (as if there were not a regular occurrence….).  Brilliantly sunny in the morning, the strong wind around lunchtime had blown in dark clouds by the end of the afternoon.  As I walked out to meet a friend in the evening the sky was dark, yet the sun still reflected gold off the upper branches of the trees and the high points on the buildings.

By the time I arrived in town the sky was turning towards a roiling pink; a good sign for today if that old saying about shepherds and sailors is true.

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