These days, mid-March is known for "ides," "green stuff" and "madness." But growing up in the hinterlands near Philly, March 19, was St. Joseph's Day. Bigger, in fact, than St. Patrick's Day. Our teaching nuns were the Sisters of St. Joseph, so March 19 was their collective "feast day." We always got the day off school, no matter how many snow days we'd already racked up.
These days, St. Joseph's Day resonates with me because not only is it "Spring Eve," but it's the day the fabled swallows return to the Mission in San Juan Capistrano. Just like my calendar-marking hummingbirds, the swallows follow some implanted bio-rhythm that signals them the precise day of return. A famous song was written (before I was born, lol) to commemorate the annual event.
"The miracle of the "Swallows" of Capistrano takes place each year at the Mission San Juan Capistrano, on March 19th, St. Joseph's Day."