Fern Glen Essays
Should you beware the ides of March?
by Judy Sullivan

Like many last week, I paused on the 15^th day of this tempestuous month to muse briefly on Roman history and William Shakespeare.

In the Bard's well-known play, the seer hisses, "Beware the ides of March!" To Julius Caesar, confidently striding toward the Senate, this portent was not worth the sheep's liver from which it was divined. "He is a dreamer," was the royal response. "Let us leave him."

Ever since the unfortunate outcome of this haughty disregard for entrails, the idea of ides has been associated with doom. Nevertheless, the word "ides," from the Roman word for "divide," simply applies to the middle of the month. Any month.

Prior to the Julian calendar (precursor to our current Gregorian version), Roman months were divided into kalends, nones and ides. The length and number of the months were different from what they are today.

• "Kalends" was the first day of the month, from which we obviously derive our word "calendar." Traditionally, it was (and remains) the day on which bills were paid.
• "Nones" fell on the 7th day of all months containing 31 days. For the remaining months it was on the 5th. Although "nones" actually means "nine," it refers to the eighth day before the ides, nine if you include the nones, itself.
• "Ides" fell on the 15th day of months containing 31 days and on the 13th for the others.

In an interesting computation, days were expressed in relation to these three. For example: ante diem V Nones Martius (or March) would be 5 days before the 7^th day of March, or March 3^rd (Lest you question my math, the counting included the nones - 7, 6, 5, 4, 3). Ante diem III Kalends Aprilis would be 3 days before the 1st of April, or March 30^th. The days immediately preceding Kalends, Nones or Ides were referred to as "Pridie" to the day in question (e.g., Pridie Kalends Aprilis, or March 31^st). It gives me a calculating headache. However, like all societies lacking any alternative, the citizenry seem to have managed admirably. The introduction of the Julian calendar, with its system of seven-day weeks and extra days in the middle of existing months, must have been greeted with the same enthusiasm as the metric system was in the US during the 1970's.

On the ides of March this year of 2006, it was 55 degrees and partly cloudy in Rome, Italy, 30 degrees with light snow in Rome, New York and an overcast 41 degrees here in Millbrook. I wondered whether Julius required an extra toga. I was still encased in wool and, pressing against the wind from my car to the office, considering my own "Ides of March." Namely:

• "I'd rather be witnessing the courtship of yellow spotted salamanders."
• "I'd rather fondle a gelatinous glob of woodfrog eggs."
• "I'd rather hear the electronic peent call of the male woodcock."
• "I'd rather hunt the fertile stalks of common horsetail."
• "I'd rather listen to the chuckling of woodfrogs than this wind howling in my ears."
• "I'd rather the weather be 65 degrees and sunny."

The good news is that you can experience all, or almost all, of these "I'ds" on any given day during the next week or two.

On drizzling nights, yellow spotted salamanders painstakingly wend their way across woodland and tarmac to reach the vernal pools in which they commence courtship.
	The woodfrog lays her eggs on sticks and stalks in shallow ponds, where the mass swells to the size of a softball. Here's the call of the males: Click here to play mp3 sound
	The fertile stalks of the common horsetail, tipped by a cone of spores, disappear before April. At the base of these stalks, the green sterile stems are just emerging.

I have tried, and failed, for many years to get a picture of a woodcock. Combat crawling through last years brown and brittle grasses, hearing the chirp of whirring wings and the metallic buzzing call of the males, I remain unsuccessful at capturing even a blurry image. They're just too quick for my slow shutter and even slower reflexes.

Cornell University's excellent bird site contains pictures, a sound file of the call and lots of intimate information about the private and public lives of these bizarre little birds with the strange eyes and stranger gait. However, I strongly encourage you to get out of doors on a brisk evening and experience them for yourselves.

Click here to view the site.

The sunny 65 degree day? Your chances are no better with a forecast than they are with sheep livers. Perhaps we'll have one on ante diem XIV through XII Kalends Junius, when we hope to see you at the IES Spring Plant Sale.

 

Questions, comments, or other feedback to Judy Sullivan.