Before it goes out like a lamb, it’s time to talk about the month of March.  Looking back in history we’ll remember this month, in 2020, as the time when the Coronavirus grew exponentially in the U.S.A.  Not that we weren’t forewarned, by the explosion taking place in Europe, preceded by China, and Iran, etc., etc.. in previous weeks. Covid-19’s here to stay for a long time; forty five days until we see a peak, eighteen months before life goes back to normal, if it ever does.  In the long haul a positive outcome to this situation can be found within ourselves; find ways to beat it psychologically, remain optimistic, and use it to be more creative and productive in our personal lives.  Take up painting, the piano, reading novels, writing as much as we can.  How can we reach out, and help others, and bring them into our lives?  What special talents do we have that we can share?  There are certainly people living in a more precarious habitat, in which I’m living.  Selfishly I hope I don’t catch the virus, or be a carrier and less selfishly, pass it on to someone else.  So, where do we go from here? The answer seems to be nowhere, nothing versus something, and now being never.  What is true is we are all vulnerable.  No-one is exempt.

Back to March.  What do we know about this third month of the calendar year, which during Roman Times was the first, and not the third of the year?  A month named after the god of war, called Mars. Special days in particular yearn to be celebrated.  Such as St. Patrick’s day, on the 17th, especially by the Irish, but even if you haven’t an ounce of Irish in your blood, you’re always welcome to partake in Irish generosity.

On the 15th of March, back in Roman Times, an old woman warned Julius Caesar, “Beware the Ides of March.”  Against his wife’s best wishes Caesar ignored the oracle and ventured out into the Roman forum only to be assassinated, and find moments before he fell to his death that his best friend had betrayed him; thus the famous quote “Et tu Brutus?”  The circumstance is a reminder to follow the wisdom of Shakespeare spoken in one of his plays “Love all, trust a few, and do wrong to no-one.”  And, in the wake of the Corona19, to listen to the oracle; Stay home, protect yourselves, and others.

Since I am a curious person, who seeks novelty in all things possible to brush away the the sins of idleness, and boredom, I have a trivia fact for March.  Does anyone know what September, October, November and December stand for?  I found this out the other day through a post by the Farmer’s Almanac.  The meaning of the prefixes of these months in latin follow suit with March being the first month of the year, for Sept means seven, Octo, eight, Nove, nine, and Dece, ten.  So whatever happened to January and February?  There is an answer, but at this moment, I can only say; “I do not know it.”  Just like there are answers surrounding the mysteries of the Coronavirus, but for now uncertainty reigns, and only time will tell.

William Butler Yeats ~ An Irish Poet

In Dublin, I happened upon one of the many public institutions, free of charge to enter.  In this case, the National Library of Ireland.  What a treasure!  It was serious inside.  Quiet, like a library, ought to be.  I didn’t go far, when I noticed a special exhibition for the poetry of William Butler Yeats.  I followed the arrow, and descended a couple short flights of stairs, to enter the display.  It was very dark down there.  The exhibits lit up inside display cases in a large spacious area, to view the works and life of Yeats.  The collection of Yeats was donated to Ireland by his former wife, and his two children.  Yeats married when he was 52, and to a young woman who was 25.  Apparently it was not the most normal marriage in the world, but his wife respected him enough to preserve his work for future generations to come.  I don’t claim to know much about his poetry, nor much about him, but was quite amazed by the eccentric life he lived.  I was also amazed by the exhibit, which I tripped inside of by accident, and had to run through quickly, because my traveling companions decided a coffee at a nearby coffee shop was more important than WBY.  Here is the website of the exhibition, and a couple of his quotes I transcribed from a brochure I picked up on the way out.  If you have flash drive and can enter the site, it’s the closest you can come to being there.  The tags below this article give an idea of the range of esoteric topics Yeats entertained in his life as an artist.  It’s worth a visit.

I have spent all my life in

clearing out of poetry every

phrase written for the eye, and

bringing all back to syntax that

is for the ear alone…”Write for

the ear”, I thought, so that you

may be instantly understood as

when an actor or folk singer

stands before an audience.


I am persuaded that our intellects at twenty contain all the truths we shall ever find.