The weather this month has been enough to send anyone to the therapist’s couch. First came a tease of spring — real spring, the kind the Island only rarely sees, with warm temperatures, spring bulbs pushing up through the wet dark ground, pinkletinks coming up out of the mud with their tiny frog chorus.

Then there was snowfall — real snowfall followed by bitter cold and ice and wind off the water that cut right through the down jacket, sending even the hardiest Islanders back to the closet for parkas, thick gloves and warm hats.

It appeared at times that every man woman and child on this side of the Sound was in a funk. (March is also of course unofficial cranky season on the Vineyard).

But if you think no one has fun around here in the month of March, consider the otters. After the recent snowfall that buried the early spring flowers, last weekend the woods of West Tisbury were streaked with otter slides. The long slides followed the woodland paths, wended across fields and schussed their way into streams. It was a picture of pure joy, and easy to imagine the otters having a field day out there, sliding along the snowy white trails that they owned for just a day. Or a night. Or both.

Memo to March: April is coming.