Dear March
March
Summer in the light …
It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.
Charles Dickens
A walk in the month of March
Todays walk is the finest expression for the month of March:
Sun at the start, mud on the path, replaced by white creaking snow after a few hundred meters.
Then the sun disappears behind a cloud and soon sleet drifts across the fields.
Happy walk ❤
March is a tomboy with tousled hair, a mischievous smile, mud on her shoes and a laugh in her voice.
Hal Borland
The sun on ripened grain…
Do not stand at my grave and weep:
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starshine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there; I did not die.
‘Do not stand at my grave and weep’
by Mary Elizabeth Frye
There’s a sunrise and a sunset every single day, and they’re absolutely free.
Don’t miss so many of them.
By Jo Walton
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Rigtig dejlig vinterferie, og pas godt på hinanden ❤
March
…det var marts som kom
Nu kom den tredje; han så ud som bare faste, men knejsede, for han var i familie med “de fyrretyve riddere” og var vejrprofet; men det er ikke noget fedt embede, derfor priste han fastetiden. Hans pynt var en dusk violer i knaphullet, men de var meget små.
“Marts, march!” råbte den fjerde og stødte til den tredje. “Marts, march! ind i vagten, her er punch! jeg kan lugte den!” men det var ikke sandt, han ville narre ham april, dermed begyndte den fjerde fyr.
Tolv med posten, Et eventyr af Hans Christian Andersen
HANNA'S WALK 
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