DOES anything feel more capricious than the weather? It’s March — lambs should be gambolling and flowers bursting into life. Instead we face the coldest day of the year. Ugh.
I, for one, blame the sun. It tricks us into thinking the passage of the seasons is like its progress through the heavens: steady, linear, predictable. Each day it grows lighter a little earlier and darker a little later. That’s how we know we’re emerging from winter and heading for glorious spring, right? Wrong.
