The Four Seasons

No, not those four seasons...

All seasons were not created equal, at least not this year. I know that technically, each season lasts three months.

It never feels like it to me, though. It feels like winter long before December 21st, it feels like summer before June 21st, and sometimes it doesn’t feel quite like spring on March 20th. The past year has felt particularly off to me. In my little world, winter lasted far longer than three months. No, it seemed more like six months of winter. Spring lasted for about three weeks. And now, summer will soon be drawing to a close. It’s no secret that I despise, with every fiber of my being, the winter season. Even though I’ve spent the end of my pregnancy in the heat of summer, and it’s been a hot summer, I am still not ready for winter. I will enjoy the fall weather this year, probably more than usual. But, it still feels like a time of mourning. While most people are welcoming cooler days, snuggling up and enjoying hot chocolate, and enjoying the wonder and beauty of autumn leaves, I will be in mourning. I will admit that the various shades of red, yellow and orange leaves are pretty, but that’s as far as it goes. Falling leaves, to me, do not seem magical. I see the beautiful green foliage and life of spring and summer withering and dying, and falling to the ground to be trampled underfoot. It just serves as a reminder of what is to come: winter. A time when everything is dead, and cold, and my mood teeters on the borderline of depression. This year, I pray for a warmer winter. I don’t want my tiny little girl cold, after all. And if it is as cold as last year, I hope I’m too enveloped in love for our new little life that I don’t even notice. In the meantime, I’m going to soak up what’s left of the warm weather every chance I get.