Hey good people, it’s March.
This month’s name comes from the Roman God of War, Mars. The Anglo-Saxon settlers of Brittania called it Hlyd monath which means “stormy month,” or Hraed monath which means “rugged month.” Those descriptors certainly help me think about this month that sometimes brings the promise of spring and then suddenly says, “psych!” and turns again to winter.
For those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, March 21 is the spring equinox, the official first day of spring. And for the Anishinabe people, March brings the Onaabani-giizis (Snowcrust Moon). In Dakota, the word for March is Ištá wičháyazaŋ wí, which translates to Sore Eyes Moon (snow blindness). March teaches us the value of both/and thinking and the notion that there are multiple truths: spring AND snow.
March reminds us that our world is complex, just as the solutions to climate change are.
The ancient Celts assigned the Alder Tree to this month. The Alder is one of the first plants on the scene after a forest clearing. With its ability to provide additional nitrogen to successional species, it helps to establish woodland areas. It serves as a host plant for several butterflies, including the White Admiral. It also provides food and cover to a variety of animals including beavers and songbirds. Its bark has medicinal uses as a mouthwash and skin tonic. For Celtic peoples the Alder was associated with new beginnings, healing, and determination –– themes we are embracing as an organization.
I am reflecting about how the Alder, tree of the month of March, can be our inspiration. What new beginnings can we create this month? Perhaps there is another way to back our statements of allyship with action; perhaps it is time to find new ways to live our commitments to climate justice.
How can we contribute to healing — ourselves, our communities, our planet? How can we be even more determined in our actions for a just world beyond climate crisis?
Susan Phillips
Executive Director