An Ode to Seasons

We are blessed to live in the beautiful Midwest, a place in the United States where we enjoy the changing of the seasons. Each year we experience winter, spring, summer, and fall and the joys and troubles that come with each one.

In winter, the snow comes, amounts varying throughout the months. Sledding, skiing, hockey, ice skating, and snowman building are activities for this season. We drink hot drinks and bake holiday goodies. Christmas and New Year’s celebrations mark the passing of the winter days. The days are short, and the nights are long. You’d think you’d get used to the cold after a while, but you never do! Layer up the sweatshirts, coats, hats, and gloves. The animals are snug in their pastures and barns, eating hay stored during the summer months. I wonder if they wonder, as we do, will the warm weather ever return? Will the winter days ever morph into something new?

And, inevitably, they do. Soon the days aren’t as short, and the nights aren’t as long. Spring is arriving, often way later than the calendar says so. Warmer air encourages us to discard some of our layers and venture outside for activities like biking, fishing, gardening, and hiking. Eager for fresh air after being cooped up inside, we often overestimate the sun’s warmth, stepping out in shorts and a t-shirt and then vehemently denying that we’re cold (even though we are, just a tad). And then, just as we think the sun is here to stay, a snowstorm sweeps through. People who aren’t from around here don’t understand why we aren’t phased by shoveling snow in April. We just shake our heads and say, “Oh we saw that one coming.”

Suddenly, it’s HOT. Sticky, sweltering, doesn’t-even-cool-down-at-night kinda hot. Summer has arrived. The summer months stretch out before us, seemingly endless and full of opportunity, but before you know it, every weekend has found something to do. Between summer vacation, the county fair, bonfires, camping trips, and church picnics, finding time to sleep is a miracle. But we live for the summer months because nowhere else does summer like the Midwest. “Summer isn’t long enough,” we say every year, especially when back to school supply lists arrive in our inboxes.

Autumn creeps up on us. First, the sun starts setting earlier. The nights feel cooler. Responsibilities begin to weigh on us once again. Then, the trees begin to turn, blooming with vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows. A breeze blows, and a rainbow of leaves flutters through the air. The temperature is such that I leave the house in a sweater and jacket and return home sweating in a t-shirt. Roadside stands with gourds and pumpkins appear; grocery stores set out potted mums and fresh apple cider. Football season is upon us; the corn mazes and pumpkin patches are in full swing. All the while we move closer and closer to the holidays.

I’ve always considered myself more of a summer person, but as I have been learning to savor the joys of each season as it comes and goes. I live in a tiny cabin in the forest, next to a pasture that has housed cows throughout the summer, although a healthy batch of pigs now roams next door. Right now, each morning I wake up to the sun reflecting off the stovepipe and the sound of grunting hogs outside my window, and I just have to smile. Even though I’m digging out my sweaters and putting away my sundresses, my heart still finds contentment in the cooler autumn days. I know it won’t be here long, so what can I do to savor it? I can enjoy each morning with my swine neighbors, take the time to watch each brilliant sunset, enjoy the moody rainy weather, drink lots of warm beverages in stoneware mugs, delight in the colorful leaves that cross my path, and find wonder in watching the fog of my breath in the early mornings. I can squeeze in the last outdoor activities before snow blankets the ground and begin making my Christmas shopping list, thankful for the joys each season brings and that they don’t last forever.

Which time of year makes your heart sing? When do you feel most alive? What childhood memories stick with you even all these years later? We’d love to hear your stories.