“The poetry of earth is never dead.” – John Keats
As we begin our yearly routine of flirting with open windows, moving cushions back to our patio furniture, grocery shopping with grill friendly meals on our list, and all the other yearly activities associated with the welcoming of spring, I’m sad to see winter go. I thought about this last night as we are a few weeks into our nightly walks up the hill and back.
Growing up in the southwest, the seasons were blurred. Although the desert has a beauty of its own any time of year, I don’t think I ever had a real appreciation for seasons like I do now living in the northeast. Maybe I just never noticed Arizona seasons. Or maybe I’ve just grown and would have a newfound appreciation should I ever find myself living there again.
But here, in the now, I am enjoying seasons. All of them. Including winter.
Each year I listen to so many people complain about the cold or the snow. Maybe it’s still novel to me but I embrace it. Yes, there is a beauty to snow but there is also a beauty to everything it brings. The beauty of a cardinal and how it stands out against a backdrop of snow. I never saw a cardinal in Arizona. I take that back, I did. On the football field.
Winter is the welcome sound of chickadees when I take the dogs out to do their business in the yard. Winter is warmth from a fire or heater. Or maybe a kitchen after baking seasonal deserts. Winter is the flashing lights spraying my bedroom ceiling at 5:30 in the morning, immediately followed by a beeping alarm as the snow plow backs up in front of my house. Winter is family and cabin fever, binge reading and binge television series watching. Winter is extra blankets, extra clothes, extra time for the car to warm up. Winter is the hope for a snow day that I never get at work but my kids happily except when we get the pre-alarm, recorded call from their school (which still makes me wonder which school official is getting up at 4:00 to decide this). Winter is Christmas songs, cheesy Hallmark movies, and the twinkle of lights seen in three different rooms as they make bank shots off a mirror in the middle of our living room. Winter is so much. And I’ll miss it.
But now we have spring and I’m excited all over again, like I will be in summer, and of course in the fall. This excitement never ends and with each new season I find one more sound, or one more memory association to file away with that season.
‘Tis the season? ‘Tis always the season.
Grasshoppers and crickets. Keats was on to something.
photos courtesy of me and Pixabay