March has always been a favorite season of mine, partly because it is my birthday month, partly because it is a little bit disagreeable, at least in Wisconsin. Truth be told, I miss that March. Spring always seems so impossible, so impossibly good, at the end of a Wisconsin winter. It is short and erratic and impossible. But it is deeply felt.
These are things I miss about Wisconsin:
- melting-snow smell
- weather that changes twenty degrees within a week
- the bread and the cheese, and knowing just which I like, and where to buy them, and the people selling them to me and the people who make them
- its smallness
- the less awesome, but more everyday natural beauty- like walks on the river