What Is Sheila’s Brush? St. John’s Last Sweep of Winter

If you spend enough winters in St. John's, NL, you learn not to trust March.

The days stretch longer. The sun starts to feel warmer against the snowbanks. Water runs along the edges of sidewalks, and for a few days it looks like winter might finally be loosening its grip.

And then someone says it:

“Don’t get too confident yet. Sheila’s not come.”

Sheila’s Brush is one of St. John's most familiar pieces of weather folklore. It refers to a spell of rough weather, usually snow or strong wind, that arrives sometime around St. Patrick’s Day, giving winter one final sweep before spring can truly settle in.

Some years it’s a proper snowfall. Other years it’s just flurries and wind. But often enough, something shows up in mid-March to remind people that winter still has a little strength left.

That pattern, repeated year after year, is what turned ordinary weather into tradition.

What Does “Sheila’s Brush” Mean?

Long before the phrase was tied to snow, the word brush had a specific meaning along the North Atlantic.

In maritime language, a brush referred to a strong blow - a sudden burst of wind that swept in fast and left just as quickly. Sailors expected these winds, particularly around the spring equinox, when the seasons were shifting and the weather turned unsettled.

That language didn’t stay at sea. In St. John’s, more than a century ago, people began using the same word on land, but over time, the meaning widened. And at some point, Sheila’s Brush became the name for a storm that tends to arrive around March 17, usually after St. Patrick’s Day celebrations.

The image behind the phrase is simple and easy to picture. Sheila, whoever she was meant to be, takes up a broom and sweeps across the land, throwing snow into the air one last time before winter finally gives way to spring.

A rhyme remembered across the Avalon Peninsula helped shape that shift:

Patrick walks the shores around,
and Sheila follows in a long white gown.

The image was clear enough to stick. The “white gown” became a way of picturing fresh snow spreading across the ground - the kind that arrives just when winter seems to be losing its grip.

Eventually, Sheila’s Brush came to mean more than one type of weather. It became shorthand for that stretch of mid-March when wind, snow, sleet, or freezing rain could still arrive without much warning, winter’s last push before spring finally settles in.

So Who Was Sheila?

Throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, Irish settlers, particularly from southeastern counties, made up a large part of the population in St. John’s and surrounding communities. They brought their customs with them, including the celebration of St. Patrick’s Day.

In some Irish traditions, celebrations didn’t end on March 17. The following day, March 18, was sometimes known as Sheila’s Day, a continuation of the festivities. The name “Sheila” acted as a kind of companion to St. Patrick - not a formal figure, but a familiar one that gave people an excuse to keep the celebration going another day.

When that tradition crossed the Atlantic, it met Newfoundland’s late-winter reality.

Mid-March was, and still is, a time when winter rarely lets go quietly. When storms arrived just after St. Patrick’s Day, people began tying the rough weather to the name they already knew. Over time, Sheila became more than just part of a date on the calendar. She turned into a character within the story.

No single version of her identity ever took hold. Some say she was St. Patrick’s wife, following behind him and cleaning up after the celebrations. Others describe her as a sister, a housekeeper, or simply a figure used to explain the timing of late storms.

Like much of Newfoundland folklore, the details were never fixed in writing. They were told aloud, passed from one generation to the next, shaped slightly each time. What stayed consistent wasn’t who Sheila was, but when she arrived.

By mid-March, people expected her.

Not as a person, exactly, but as a way of explaining why winter always seemed to have one last turn left before spring could begin in earnest.

Does Sheila Really Show Up? Looking at the Weather

For something rooted in folklore, Sheila’s Brush lines up surprisingly well with real weather patterns.

March has long been one of the most unsettled months in St. John’s. Winter still dominates, but longer days and slightly warmer air begin to shift conditions. That mix often leads to snowstorms late in the season, even when people are expecting spring.

Looking back through past winters, there are plenty of examples that fit the pattern people talk about.

In March 2008, a series of storms struck Newfoundland around St. Patrick’s Day, bringing heavy snowfall to parts of the island and shutting down schools and roads for several days. For many people, that year became one of the clearest reminders that winter rarely leaves quietly.

In 2014, snowfall returned to the St. John’s area just days after St. Patrick’s Day, adding fresh snow to melting banks and slowing traffic across the city.

In 2017, another mid-March system brought wind-driven snow and poor visibility across parts of eastern Newfoundland - exactly the kind of weather locals often point to when they say Sheila has arrived.

And in more recent years, even when storms haven’t been severe, light snow or flurries have frequently appeared around March 17 to March 20, reinforcing the idea that winter likes to linger just a little longer than expected.

None of these storms were unusual on their own.

What stands out is how often they appear around the same time.

After enough years of seeing the same pattern, people stopped being surprised, and started giving it a name.

Life Before Forecasts

Long before weather apps and hourly forecasts, people in Newfoundland relied on observation.

Fishermen watched the sky closely. Farmers paid attention to wind direction and cloud movement. Families learned which months brought the worst conditions and which signs hinted at change.

Weather lore wasn’t entertainment, it was practical knowledge.

Sheila’s Brush became one of those reminders. It told people not to trust the first signs of spring. It warned them to stay ready for one more storm, even when winter seemed finished.

Some seal hunters even preferred to wait until after mid-March before heading out, believing the last major storm of the season was still ahead.

It wasn’t superstition for the sake of storytelling.

It was preparation.

Why the Tradition Still Sticks Around

Even now, Sheila’s Brush hasn’t faded away.

You’ll still hear it mentioned every March. Someone will see snow in the forecast after St. Patrick’s Day and shake their head with a half-smile.

“There she is now.”

Most people don’t treat it as a serious prediction anymore. It’s more of a shared understanding - one of those phrases that connects generations through experience.

Because even with modern forecasts, the pattern still feels familiar.

Winter hangs on. Spring arrives slowly. And mid-March often delivers one last reminder that North Atlantic seasons move at their own pace.

Waiting for the Last Sweep

There’s a certain patience that comes with living through St. John's winters.

You learn not to rush the seasons. You keep the shovel handy a little longer than you think you’ll need it. You wait until late March, or sometimes April, before trusting that winter is truly finished.

And every year, as St. Patrick’s Day approaches, people watch the forecast with quiet curiosity.

Not fear. Not dread.

Just expectation.

Because if you’ve lived here long enough, you know how the story usually goes.

Winter gets one last say.

And whether it comes as a snowfall, a gust of wind, or a messy day of flurries, people in St. John's will recognize it for what it is.

Sheila’s Brush - winter’s final sweep before spring is finally allowed to settle in.