March in the Midwest.

This is my fourth year living in the Midwest, and one thing I've discovered is that this part of the country seems to really have only two seasons: summer and winter, with March representing the messy transition between two extremes. One of my professors at Notre Dame once quipped that March was the worst month to spend in the Midwest, because the weather this month is so erratic - you'll often have thirty-degree temperatures and snow one day, highs in the fifties the next day, and lows in the teens or single digits the day after that. That's what March was like in South Bend, and the last few days in Detroit have been similar. Knowing that April is right around the corner would normally be the only consolation of March, but in my case I suppose I can count my imminent departure for considerably more temperate California as a consolation as well. For the next ten or so days, however, I'll have to tolerate the melancholy Midwestern March I've become accustomed to. AMDG.