“My father was often impatient during March, waiting for winter to end, the cold to ease, the sun to reappear. March was an unpredictable month, when it was never clear what might happen. Warm days raised hopes until ice and grey skies shut over the town again.”

“It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.”

“There is something beautiful about a sunny winter day,A break from harsh gray skies and harsh cold winds,A bright warm sun and clear blue skies instead.”

“Silence gradually spread its great, fragile butterfly wings across the ward. The sun had disappeared, replaced by grey and rain. This particular month of July was reading the script for March.”

“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.You know how it is with an April day.When the sun is out and the wind is still,You're one month on in the middle of May.But if you so much as dare to speak,a cloud come over the sunlit arch,And wind comes off a frozen peak,And you're two months back in the middle of March.”

“Give me the clear blue sky over my head, and the green turf beneath my feet, a winding road before me, and a three hours' march to dinner -- and then to thinking!”