Our moods change with the seasons

Summer is winding down for all those gearing up to head back to school soon, but not for me. It may be mid-August, but given that my family’s seasonal lake house will be open for another couple of months at least, I’m not really all that heartbroken at the prospect of “summer vacation” being over. This is especially true since I haven’t really had a summer vacation this year, what with being a member of the real world and having to go into work every day.

With the exception of the slight increase in traffic due to bus transportation during school hours, I’ll be able to maintain the status quo, at least for the foreseeable future. Life will continue to saunter along its current blistering-thanks-to-the-endless-sun path.

With all the back to school buzz going on, though, I’ve started thinking about the passing of time, the changing of seasons.

I’m a big fan of spring and summer and everything both have to offer, most notably, hours upon hours of gloriously warm sunshine. That said; I have a confession to make.

I miss winter. I miss the snow. I miss being able to curl up on my couch with my favorite blanket, a book and a mug of hot chocolate. Snow: it’s the perfect excuse to be anti-social and hibernate in my apartment.

Sure there are things I hate about winter – the biting wind I could do without, and sometimes Mother Nature’s temper slaps us with a snowstorm at the most inopportune times – yet, I miss it: the beauty, the peacefulness, the look of downtown Monson after fresh snow has fallen and the plows have yet to take to the roadways.

Everything seems to slow down in the winter. If there were any flowers in bloom, winter would offer the perfect excuse to stop and smell the roses. 

Perhaps my current feelings stem from the incessant humidity we’ve experienced during the last couple weeks. I’m not a fan of the often-oppressive heat. I like to breathe comfortably, after all.

Spring and autumn are my favorite seasons. I love the cool, brisk mornings and both are beautiful in their own right: spring for its new growth, and fall for its colors. But lately, there’s something about winter that has me pining. 

Before I acquired my four-wheel-drive vehicle, I hated winter. Tooling around in a tiny car that wasn’t equipped to handle the slick road conditions was not my idea of fun. With my sport utility, I can roam the winding back-woods streets of Monson with relative ease and safety. I have a newfound sense of freedom as well as an appreciation for the wonders of nature. 

As I write this, I look up and see the afternoon sunlight billowing between the blinds and I feel slightly guilty for wishing away the beautiful weather. After all, I’ll be the first person to lament the loss of summer when the cold, hard, grey winter months are upon us. 

If I’ve learned anything from living in New England, it’s that weather can change in an instant. How does that saying go? “If you don’t like the weather in New England, wait a minute.” It’s true. Perhaps that is Mother Nature’s way of teaching us to appreciate what we’ve got; we never know when we’ll lose it or worse, if/when we’ll get it back. 

On that note, maybe I’ll curb my craving for winter for the time being and soak up as much of the sunshine as I can, while I can. 

It’s going to be a long, grey winter, after all. I can’t wait ‘til next spring.

Column reprinted with permission from The Journal Register newspaper.