It’s the 14th of March and winter has returned with a vengeance after an eerily erratic first two weeks of this month. The narcissi by the front gate are boldly poking their little yellow heads above the crusty, wet snow as if to testify to their hardiness and indefatigability. They remind me of the newly installed statue of a young girl facing down the Wall Street Bull. Clustered tightly together, they also call to mind the thousands of pink pussy hats blooming on the streets of D.C., just a few weeks ago. Standing up to the ill winds of change and the overpowering and heartless forces abroad in the land seems to be order of the day. Welcome to 2017.