This post is written as part of the SoCS writing prompt by Linda G. Hill. Her prompt this week was “season”. If you’d like to join in the fun, please visit her page, https://lindaghill.com/2017/10/20/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-oct-2117/ for the rules and responses to the prompt.
When I first moved to Florida, I was told that Florida had two seasons: Tourist and monsoon. This was truer than I imagined. I got here in September of 2016. Rainy season was just about over, and the weather shortly turned incredibly beautiful. Warm, hot even, days, low humidity, no rain, really, no rain for months. I didn’t even have to mow the lawn until spring.
That’s about when tourist season started, though I didn’t really know it at the time. The artwalks got busier and busier. The open mic night I went to had better and better attendance. Tourist season. It go into high gear in February and March. It fell off drastically in April, and by May, it was just the locals again. And then, with the summer soltice (or shortly before) the rainy season rolled in, and it rained literally every day for two months. Not all day every day. But every day for awhile. You could drive to the grocery store, 2.5 miles to my house and drive through 3 downpours. The lawn, well….it took off on it’s own. It was almost knee high every week, and it was only through my amazing man Dan’s grace that I didn’t have to fight with it.
Now that I’ve been here a full year, I found that monsoon season blew away with Hurricane Irma. We didn’t have rain for two weeks after that storm. Now, we still have it occasionally, but it’s like today. It was beautiful this morning. We went for a nice walk around Dan’s community in the warm dry fall sun. 85° to 90°, but dry and easy to be in. Tonight, while we at the dinner he’d grilled under a clear sky, it poured rain for about 15 minutes.
So yeah, in Florida there are two seasons. I lived the rest of my life in places that had 4 distinct seasons. Mostly in New England, some in Iowa.
In New England, there’s no mistaking spring. The snow melts off the streets, and from around the mailboxes, and daffodils start blooming, and the sense of relief among the populace is palpable. People smile and wave. The mad dash to the car from the grocery store door slows down to a lilting gait, taking in the joy of smelling spring in the air, and not wearing 5 layers of clothes.
Then summer shows up, and it gets hot, hot like in the 80’s. Sometimes 90. The nights are always much cooler. Florida nights in the summer occasionally dip into the 70’s but it’s normal not to see below 80° for weeks. In Connecticut, we were there in August and the temps were always in the 60’s. Which was fairly normal, as I recall from my 40 years there. I remember so many long days and warm nights spent on the water up there. I loved the summer up there.
Then autumn hits, and that season is incomparable in New England. Color explodes, the harvest is in, apples are ripe and ready for the picking. The only problem ever with autumn up there was that it meant winter was not too far behind. To say I didn’t like winter was an understatement.
Cold. The first thing was the cold. It was wearing 5 layers of thick clothes and being cold. It was climbing in between sheets with fleece pajamas and shivering. The 2nd thing was the dark. It is dark at 4:30 and the sun didn’t come up til 7. Short short days. Just depressing.
And then of course, that 4 letter curse word of northern climes, S N O W. Ugh is all I can say. Snow blowing, shoveling, driving in it, being stuck in the house because the roads were bad. Hours of school and business cancellations on the TV.
There are trade-offs, I know. I know people who wouldn’t give up 4 seasons for anything. I know people who loves snowstorms and use them as an excuse to build a big fire, make a pot of soup and climb under a blanket with a good book. While I can appreciate that point of view, that is not me.
I am perfectly happy to live in a two season locale. Where the beach is an option every day, or at least a few days a week. Where, when you can’t sleep, it’s not crazy to go soak in a hot tub in the middle of the night. Where you learn to do your outside chores early in the day for a couple months a year. And then enjoy months and months where you can sit out on your deck and stargaze on a perfect summer-like night. I remember last year on New Year’s Day, being at my sisters and walking around in my bathing suit all day. I stopped, momentarily, to say to my sister, “This is crazy! It’s New Year’s Day and I’m in my bathing suit.”
Seasons record our lives, and our moods, and are the background for so much that we do. We all have things we remember about seasons, memories we made in seasons of the year, and in the seasons of our lives. The circle of life, as seen in the seasons of each year. Concentric circles, giving depth and scope to our lives.
Love and light.