I forgot to post earlier this week. Didn’t write a single line, or come up with one little idea. I blame it on summer.
I am a Summer Girl
Summer throws me off-course. It always has. When my boys were little, summer was one long, un-calendared event. No tick-tock of a clock to wake us, no reminder from the sun when it was time to wind down. Our schedule was our own. We blew with the wind.
I loved those days. Going to the park, playing at the beach, camping and roasting marshmallows. Soaking up every piece of sun while we could.
Now, I have no little ones at home, no school year to tell me that schedules will be tossed aside, and lazy, hazy days will fill the next three months. Yet, my husband and I still manage to live by the school calendar.
Summer is my simple hippie dream. Barefoot in the park, running through waves at the beach. And, if there weren’t so many bugs in my backyard, sitting outside eating every meal.
I am a summer girl. I wish I could live a life of summers.
Autumn is Welcomed with Open Arms
But soon, summer will come to an end. Fall will greet us with oranges and brilliant reds, yellows that glisten beneath soft dew. Muggy days will be replaced by cool, brisk winds. I welcome autumn with open arms.
Autumn contains a serenity that cannot be explained. Crackling leaves. Hikes beneath colored canopies. Toasted marshmallows over an open pit. Pumpkins and hay bales. The most beautiful of all seasons, I think.
Like the leaves that turn, I turn, too. I am a person of expectancy, waiting not-so-patiently for colors to explode, trees to drop leaves, and dark nights to appear.
My life turns upside down in autumn. Baking and cooking, chilling cool bones next to an oven door, preparing my home for the holidays, anticipating the next season. Because honestly, I can’t wait for winter.
Winter. The Epitome of Minimalism
Winter is clean. White. The epitome of minimalism. It is children curled in a parent’s lap, bedtime stories by the fire. Cold, dark nights. Games around a table. Blankets and hot cocoa. Nestling time. Peace.
In winter, I reminisce, remembering family here and gone. Thinking to childhood, nostalgic moments of youth. Winter is the love of my life. Until spring, that is.
Spring. A Time of Change
Spring is everything I’ve ever wanted. A time to start again. Blooming flowers. Blossoming trees. Animals being birthed. Changes in the earth, changes in me.
In spring, I cleanse, let go. Release the old, bring in the new.
Spring reminds me that nothing is forever. That change is inevitable. Life is a constant rotation of birth and death, revision and renewal.
I wonder if seasons are here to remind us that we, like they, are forever altering. Telling us that change is part of life. Seasons come and go, and so do we. Perhaps we were always meant to live a life of seasons.