Most people abhor March. It’s not yet Spring, and many times the weather is still quite unsettled. But I find myself in awe of March. Think about what March stands for. It is the end of winter, bringing closure to the days of wintry gusts and blowing snow which many areas have grown weary of. In my part of the world, the daylight grows longer, the sunshine grows warmer and my mood grows more energetic. There begins a burning desire to organize, declutter and yes, I will say it, clean.

“Have you noticed that our world is shrinking?” I’ve become acutely aware of this over the past few weeks. The immediate, worldwide media coverage of the recent Haitian earthquake, followed by the global aid response is proof that distance is unimportant. Rescue teams from all corners of the globe descended upon the island and immediately began pulling survivors from the rubble. Worldwide relief agencies began the process of food and water distribution to those in need. Medical personnel from every continent began treating the thousands of injured. And every day, the stories of heroism and despair were brought into our living rooms, making us personally involved in every process. When the world came together in Haiti, it brought HOPE.

The countdown begins…ten, nine, eight… the ball drops and in the blink of an eye, we turn over a new day, a new month, a new year, and a new decade.

As the cool breeze of October swells into the cold blustery winds of November, I am reminded that time, indeed, is marching on. It is up to each of us to decide whether we blindly fall into place, trudging silently among the oblivious masses, headed toward some unknown destination or purpose. Or do we rebel against such robotic behavior and “march to the beat of our own drum”?

September Poem by Brierly Ashour

 Can you hear it? There is a faint sound looming on the design horizon, growing louder with each collegiate semester. The sound of new creative voices is resonating from within the academic community. 

Twas the first of December and all through the staff

Was heard not a chuckle, a guffaw nor a laugh.

The laptops were open; all heads were bowed down,

Their fingers were flying; their faces were frowns.

There is a nip in the evening air which I hadn’t noticed until the last few days. Somewhere, somehow, Summer seems to have slipped away, without even a farewell wave. Where did it go? Why don’t I remember it even being around?

Ah February – when we receive a brief respite from the ordinary with an endless bombardment of advertising proclaiming what gift most perfectly declares our love for that special someone.