Part One: Saint Valentine

The Barn
Part One: Saint Valentine

Now welcom sumer with thy sonne softe

That hast this wintres weders over-shaker

And driven awey the longe nightes blacke!

Seynt Valentyn, that art ful hy on lofte

Thus singen smale foules for they sake

                                          — Geoffrey Chaucer

When the songbirds start their raucous early morning greetings again and stepping outside smells like damp earth we know spring has arrived and we say, love is in the air. After the long months of winter we are excited by the slow increase in temperature that comes in spring - usually in April. But sometimes as early as March we get days to put on skirts and shorts and frolic in the new grass. And sometimes we get a day in February that only requires a light jacket.

It is the warm February days that I treasure the most – for their unexpectedness and the reminder that the long winter will soon enough prove to have been worth dragging through. This Monday was one of those treasures. And it looks as though tomorrow and Friday will be even warmer. There are still small patches of dirty snow here and there, but the two huge snowballs on the campus green melted at last with the warmth of the sun on Monday. How incongruous they seemed that morning, two bright remnants of the snowy storms in a field of dull green and brown grass in the warm air.

The sense of warmth returning, the smell of damp earth and a few crocuses and daffodil stems starting to poke through all spoke of spring and a return of life. The vitality of the day is just what we might hope for on a day dedicated to lovers. St. Valentine's Day is a long-standing tradition and it seems odd that it was placed in a winter month. It gives us something to look forward to to mark the last stretch of winter, but how can we hope to celebrate love and fertility in the cold, oftentimes snowy weather? For centuries we have done this and these commercialist day are no different. We celebrate in the cold and keep one another warm with clichés, with the wine-and-dine fertility rituals of the modern day. But on a day like today the cute cards and candy hearts seem less important. The air of spring is infectious and it seems to me that the lovers ought to leave the restaurant and go for a walk instead, holding hands and breathing the lively air together. This is just the right kind of day to dedicate to the lovers. A warm reminder in the winter, a reminder to rekindle the passion.

Amongst my own group of friends there are plenty of us reveling in the footloose and fancy-free lifestyle of the unattached. (Naturally this is an bit of an exaggeration, but it is good to think positively about our situation, especially today.) We exchange cards and hearts anyway, because we are friends with the love of agápe, that is to say the love of Friendship. This love is no less necessary than the eros of lovers and so we celebrate our friendships as well as our loves on this day. And on this lovely day we, too, are pulled outside. We, too, walk side-by-side and take in the fresh air and warm sun.