I'm definitely a summer person. I used to be a spring person, loving the coming-to-life of new leaves and flower buds. However, the older I get, the warmer I like to be. I love the fully-fleshed gardenias and geraniums, the lush green forest behind our house, and the hot evening sun just before it goes down. This was the first summer we've spent in Seattle in years, and when it arrived in August, I was thrilled. I hate to let summer go, now that October rains have come.
Some people love winter, with its cold mono-palate shaded in white, grey, and black. These are probably far and few between. Many of them probably live in the Arctic or Antarctic zones. They must have warm houses to escape into and feel secure in. "Why else would you tolerate freezing cold snow, slush, and ice?" asks this former Winnipeg-ger. Not to mention the mud when it all starts melting!
Most of all, I have learned that
fall seems to be the hands-down favorite season among my friends and acquaintances. They love the bright colors of leaves dying, the withering of stalks that permits berries to appear, the hardening off of stems to drop ripe apples and pears onto orchard floors. Even Dr. Oz talks about fall
as his favorite time of year.
I don't get it. The whole atrophy process as nature heads for the dead of winter? Doesn't turn my crank one notch. I feel like God kills off the world's beauty so that we truly can appreciate the unfolding of a new season in Spring.
Only 8 months to go. God have mercy! (and I don't say that in jest.) I can't wait, hunkered down at my desk, looking out at a typical autumn sky. Rainy, grey Seattle. Time to wait for new life.
Thank God for central heating, bright electrical lights, a roof overhead, and thickly insulated walls to ward off the cold damp until the deck is habitable again.
