The Four Seasons

As I shovel out and survey the mass of snow here in New England dumped by a historic blizzard named after a cartoon fish, I can’t help but think about the progression of the seasons. I’ve lived in New England for the entirety of my life but I can remember on family vacations to Florida in February thinking “why can’t it just always be this warm?” I’m not even close to being a meteorologist so I won’t try to get into low pressure systems and dew points, but why do people live in the cold? It’s a question worth asking ourselves.

Some people say, “I’m moving to Florida someday.” Some people actually do it, because they truly hate the cold, but most people just bear it. Maybe it has to do with finances or the stresses of actually picking up and moving your entire life. As I have gotten older I have learned to appreciate each of the seasons for what they are, yes even winter (maybe it’s just a defense mechanism for when I’m walking to the bus and its 5 degrees and snowing down my jacket).

The seasons balance each other out, they are a perfect metaphor for the ups and downs of life. We endure the uncomfortable and less desirable winter months because we know they give way to the beauty and warmth of spring and summer. We wouldn’t be able to appreciate each season if not for the others.

Let’s begin with summer. In most regions of the country summer is hot and humid. At first, we in the Northeast are so excited for the change from cold to warmth that we welcome the humidity with short sleeves and trips to the beach. We can hang out outdoors and bask in the sunshine. By August, we are hunkered down in the air conditioning trying not to move for fear of breaking a sweat (I’ve found that sticking my head in the freezer can provide temporary relief). We quickly become sick of the heat and we begin to pine for the relief of cooler temperatures. 

Then like a sliver that finally relents and leaves its unwelcome habitat in your skin, autumn breaks. The air is once again comfortable enough to venture outdoors and spend time picking apples and peeping leaves (this phrase always creeps me out, it sounds like I’m spying on the leaves through their bedroom window). A light jacket and a cup of pumpkin spiced coffee, admittedly this is my favorite time of year (and not just because there is an excuse to try all of the pumpkin flavored beers). But alas, it is also the shortest and we all know what comes next. 

At first, winter isn’t so bad. We welcome her with the celebration of Christmas and then the New Year, and we think “hmm, maybe it’ll be okay this year.” Skip ahead to March, there’s been snow on the ground for two months and you have run out of things in your house to fix, books to read, and even Netflix is tapped. Your skin is so dry it cracks as you reach for the remote. This is when you think, “I’m moving to Florida.” Just as you think about raising that ice skate blade to your throat, you hear the weatherman say those magic words “60 degrees.”

The first day of warm weather in the spring season is a joyous occasion. People are wearing short sleeves and sunglasses, skateboarding and bike riding, sunbathing in the park. Sure it’s barely warm enough to thaw the frozen pond, but it’s warm. Soon it’s not just warm, but the flowers start to bloom and the tree buds explode, it’s colorful and it smells great all the time. It’s magical compared to that inconsiderate b*&#$ winter. And then the magic fades as the heat becomes unbearable again and the cycle starts all over.

Can you imagine living in a place where the temperature rarely fluctuated? Every day was 73 degrees and sunny? Sounds awesome to us New Englanders in February, but how long would it really be paradise? Not long would be my guess. We would begin to long for some kind of change in weather, maybe even miss snow a little. That’s because each season, with its peaks and valleys, makes us appreciate the other three.

If we didn’t have to endure the cold and snow of winter, would those few months when the warmth creeps in and the flowers bloom be so glorious? They wouldn’t. There wouldn’t be any transition in the plant life if the temperature never altered, no bloom, no color, no smell. If we didn’t have the blaring heat of summer would we appreciate the cooling breeze and crisp mornings of the fall season? Nope. Once again, the leaves wouldn’t change and all that colorful leaf peeping (shudder) wouldn’t exist. The extremes of the seasons really help us tolerate their opposites. When we have one of those perfect weather days, we absolutely love it. It’s a spectacle and not just the norm. 

I think I’d rather shovel and ice my head than not appreciate a beautiful day. It builds character, right? Wish me luck, I’m going outside.