When I think about some of the best times I’ve had during my time in this world, very few involve extravagance. Most often these memories are of events that took place close to home, in normal circumstances, surrounded by close friends. They are the seemingly rare perfect days when responsibility and every unpleasant worry takes a backseat to… well… nothing. There’s just nothing to concern you. The times that you are simply content feeling loved, by friends and by the Earth.
Perhaps it’s just the annual reawakening of nature that we experience here in the Northeast, but springtime often seems to bring about or instigate these type of days. The Spring season, with its alternating periods of rain followed by precious days of sun and warmth, are gems during this time of the year. Today, and really the whole weekend, was one of those gems. For indeed, laying in the grass while the sun makes itself a part of you, can be called nothing other than simplicity. Idle conversation about nothing other than what comes to mind, cold drinks, a bike ride in the dying light of the day… it is difficult for me to express the contentedness that these type of days bring. It’s truly amazing to experience the simultaneous nature of the sunshine and warm weather instilling life in both the plants and in us.
I’ve thought a lot about how unique our situation is here in the Northeast with regard to the changing of the seasons. It makes me wonder, for instance, if the springtime would come as such a joy if not preceded by winters that usually are wished gone by their last throes. Yet… come the end of Summer, I’m usually ecstatic for Fall and all its wonderful colors, apple season, the return of cool nights and thoughts of the swiftly approaching season of beautiful snowfall. I heard recently that Burlington was polled as the “happiest” small city in the country. Sometimes you wouldn’t think so with the amount of griping about winter you hear from February through mid-April. But I think what I’ve started to realize is that maybe the harshness of the winter is a contributing factor to that happiness. Would warmth not become stale if continually present? At least in my opinion, the seasons balance themselves out in what they provide. Summer seems a unending promise of beach days and cookouts and swimming until mid-July when the temperature hits 100 and you can’t move without sweating from every pore of your body. Winter starts out as a magical season where snow is the most beautiful sight you’ve seen, until February when you walk outside and the hairs in your nose freeze.
When it comes down to it, I think the season cycle keeps me much happier year-round than if I lived in a place where the seasons were less defined. Can you imagine trying to get excited for Christmas season and having it be 70 degrees outside? It just seems odd to me. Recognizing that the distinct definitions of the seasons in our part of the country has been a part of our childhood, and undeniably carries with it memories, smells, sounds and tastes, is healthy for us.
It seems I’ve wandered away a bit from my original topic, but I think it really all ties together. The simplicity of enjoying the change of the seasons is… bliss.
(photo elegantly captured by @craigwinslow)
