100 Word Wednesday – March

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March

Named for the God of War but Loki is your nature. Each year you bring the prospect of spring yet your deceit hides that promise under your cloak of white. I should know better, but you understand how much I need to believe your promises.

Beware the ‘Ides of March’; Julius did not heed the warnings and you repaid his arrogance with the cold steel of betrayal.

Now you say that you are the master of time and will move the sun to bring me another hour of light. But you’ve only robbed from the beginning to repay the end.

Punxsutawney Phil says “Still 1005 more days of Trump”

Tomorrow is Groundhog’s Day here in America. It marks the halfway point between the winter solstice of December 21st and the vernal equinox on March 20th.  Like true Americans, we will take a break from our real problems to celebrate some fat rat in Pennsylvania’s ability to crawl out of its hole in the ground. I mean come on, if you want to see some fat rats crawling out of their holes, just turn on the news anytime congress is in session.

So it boils down to this, whether this rodent sees his shadow or not, we will still have 46 more days of winter left and November 3rd 2020 is still 1005 days away. But, unlike our current political situation, the weather may not be all doom and gloom.

A few facts from the frozen tundra of Helena, Montana. February 2nd means we will be enjoying the benefits of some increasingly warmer temperatures. Back in December, our average high temperature was around 31 degrees F. For the month of February, we will see our average increase to 37 Deg. F. and March will see us basking in balmy temperatures of an average, 47 degrees F. On top of that, our snowfall will decrease from 8.2 inches to a measly 6.8 Inches. We owe this explosion of rising mercury to the fact that back on December 21st, we had just 8.42 hours of daylight and we will see 9.43 hours of daylight tomorrow. Now, if that seems impressive, on March 20th, we will have 12.1 hours of daylight. Now, that has to be more information than you could possibly ever want, or need, to know and I didn’t need some fuzzy rodent to tell me that.

So the moral of this rat’s tale, for us in Helena, Montana at least, is this. Hey Punxsutawney Phil…who gives a rat’s ass.