From the depths of March, I bring you January, direct from the winter that never ends.

About once a week this month, I’ve said this must be the last coldest day, only to be proven wrong again and again. Snow in late March is not too unusual here, but snow and wind and temperatures in the teens are. I am beginning to long for slightly warmer temperatures.  Normal temperatures would be nice.

On a rare day without wind, virtually the only sign of spring I feel is that the sun’s strength is greater than it was in January.  On windy days, even that makes no difference. Today is one of those days.

The dogs didn’t get much of a walk this morning.  Even layered in flannel pajamas with jeans pulled on top, a sweater and my almost-heaviest coat, the wind found its way to chill my bones.  We will walk another day, preferably a warmer one. Maybe one where spring is more than a promise that feels far in the future.