I am posting this story, in honor of my son, the author. He didn’t grow up to be an all-star basketball play, as stated in his biography, but he still enjoys playing the the sport, for recreation. The original book that this appeared in was illustrated, by him, when he was 10 years old. It was kept in a file cabinet that was unluckily drenched by a leaking humidifier, thus explaining the rusty appearance of the pages. I reproduced the drawings with photography, and thought it of value to retype the script.
Facade of an old shed, difficult found on the curve in the road. Worn and weathered, it stood out on this foggy day, in February, 2019.Old Red Barn. New England in March 2019.A triangle shape, in the tree. Geometric shapes intermingle with the snow covered hemlock. March snow. Or maybe it was February.A tangled mess of prickly brambles, on the roadside. These overgrowths are usually a dark purple color, and make me think of the arteries inside the body. They are ominous, and not to be approached with your hands, or any other part of your body.
Autumn leaves dappled in warm afternoon sunlight. Fall, 2018.
March came in like a Lion, but the days keep getting longer, and spring it will bring.
The Romans called it Martius, after the War-god, Mars, and for them it was the first month of the year, when the vigorous battle of life began again.
But the Saxons called it Lenet-Monat, or Length-Month, because now the days were lengthening after winter. This long-forgotten name for the month is not dead; it lives in the word Lent, which falls in March. So this first month of spring includes the spiritual Christian name in the martial pagan one, like the meeting of the Lamb, with the Lion.