Every year around this time I get an itch. An itch that sends me into a depression state of mind if I don’t watch it and also miraculously clears up come mid-April to early May. I call this the winter flu.

That time of year when you have had about all you can of the cold wet months with little to no sunshine, and you can’t wait to move onto the happy warmer days of spring and summer. Yes, even in California we had those days.

I think this is why my husband and I have, in the past, always moved at the end of February. Although this time around, and hopefully the last time around forever, we are not moving until early to mid-April. Something for which my daughter thanks me.

You see, with her birthday at the end of February we have always lived in boxes more times than I can count when we celebrate her turning one-year older.

However, with our next move just around the corner, (yes we did get that house I talked about a few weeks back), we do not have to start packing for a few more weeks. Although with the wait to scratch this itch I have it could not come soon enough.

My need for something new to be born must have something to do with this itch. After the holidays and the new year, the idea of re-birth starts to fade away as January turns to February and then March where we all know it rolls in like a lion and out like a lamb, oh how accurate that statement is this year.

The idea which seemed so nice to settle in and cuddle up for the winter in fall has lost its glamour. This itch always becomes its worst as I wait, most of the time impatiently, for April showers and May flowers.

I wonder sometimes if most people experience the itch like I do. The need to get out in the sunshine, jump in rivers and lakes, plant some flowers and invite friends over for a “cookout.” (We call them BBQ’s back home on the West Coast). The need to see and experience life beyond the walls of your house grows strong I think for most of us this time of year.

Over the past week, part of me has thought more than once about crawling into a ball and hibernating until someone comes and tells me it is all over. I now understand why bears sleep through winter and also realize my own tendency to turn into one when spring decides to stall, and wait to bloom ensuring us the worst is over and we are safe to come out and start enjoying the outdoors once again.

As I pull in my desire to snarl and shout at Mother Nature over the next few weeks I hope those of you who feel the same as me have the patience to wait as well. Perhaps even better than myself. Hopefully, Mother Nature will be kind and the wait won’t be too long.

Brittany Fuller is the community editor of The Jessamine Journal and Jessamine Life magazine. She can be reached at brittany.fuller@jessaminejournal.com.