The euphoria of walking in crunchy, colorful, fallen autumn leaves. I feel the frost in the air so I pull my sweater and scarf a little tighter creating a warm wooly hug and breathe deeply. My nostrils expand as I inhale someone’s smokey fire pit and I imagine the taste of popcorn. And s’mores. And pumpkin spice lattes that usually round out this season of transition. It feels so lovely to reunite with all my cozy sweaters and take my toes indoors for a few months. I nostagically watch all the children in their new clothes, with new backpacks and running shoes chatting and bouncing their way home from schools first days. I anticipate a visit to the farmers market for corn on the cob, peaches for pie and beautiful orange pumpkins to adorn my front steps. My days of canning the fall harvest come to mind. Why did I stop doing that? I may take it up again.
The warmth of the fireplace as I snuggle in with my cinnamon hot chocolate and fur blanket that I bought at an after Christmas sale last year. I’m settled in with a good book and some Frank and Ella but find myself drifting in and out of sweet slumber. When I open my eyes I witness winters first snow. Soft snowflakes falling past the illuminated street lamp. All is quiet and dark and I can hear Natalie Cole singing Noel in the memories in my mind. Not many things make me as giddy as walking in the snow on evenings like these, so I tear myself away from the fireplace and slide on my uggs and puffer coat and tip toe out of the house onto the unshoveled driveway covered in virgin snow. The crunch of my steps seems unusually loud breaking the absolute peace of the snowy darkness. My mind drifts to apple pie and a hearty stew with soft buttery biscuits. I am reminded that my favorite season is just around the corner. Christmas is a season all its own.
Spring holds its promise of warmer days, greener foliage, new life springing forth after the long cold dead that winter has become after 4 or 5 months. That first morning I wake up and hear birds chirping outside our window brings joy to my soul. Blades of green grass emerging through the remaining snow. I’m starting to dream about open toe shoes again and easier driving conditions. I change up the CDs in my vehicle and revert back to crooners who sing of spring and love. And for those of us who believe there is the promise and hope that the Easter message brings. We are reminded once again or what it means to be resurrected… risen. Full of life once again.
And finally the leaves come out in full force and everything is 50 shades of green. The flowers are blooming pink and mauve and yellow and I run out the door in my shirt sleeves only to feel the warmth of the sun on skin. I hear the children squealing and running from the school on that last day as the bell rings ‘schools out for summer’. The neighborhood gets strangely quiet as families head out for summer vacation to the mountains, the cottage, Grandma’s, Europe and Disney land. A few stragglers can be found riding their bikes to the corner store for big gulps and popsicles to combat the summer heat.
At this juncture, summer feels like it’s lacking. I want to sit on a porch with a dear friend and while away the evenings with an ice tea listening to crickets sing their song and reminisce about gentler times. I long to live in the country during summer in a big old farm house that needs painting with a wrap around veranda where we could dance at midnight. Or at the lake surrounded by water, listening to motor boats by day and sitting on the pier with our feet dangling in the water at dusk. Fireflies completing the ambience. Summer in the city just doesn’t cut it for me. Im not interested in being surrounded by hot pavement desperately trying to catch a breeze. Sitting on dry land in a confining backyard and dreaming about being on a sailboat with the water spraying refreshingly past my face is making me yearn to be somewhere else. Even the excitement and nostalgia of sitting in the bleachers at a live baseball game eating those delicious hotdogs would do the trick for me.
But for now i’ll have to be content with small pleasures and huge blessings. Ice cold peach green tea lemonades from our happy place. A beautiful deck and backyard. Gorgeous blooms brought home by Lexie and the ones growing in my own personal garden. My whole family home for the summer. Late night chats on the deck as we endeavour to keep cool. Salads and fruit. Local Chapters to hang out at – bring a sweater. Endless opportunities to read and write and create. Impromptu parties for no reason. Movie and date night. Making homemade ice cream and then decadently savoring it to cool down. Early morning power walks to clear the head and induce optimal health. Laying on top of the covers at night with the windows wide open listening to my husbands snoring, the kids laughing in the TV room and the leaves rustling in our new climate change -wind! or the rain falling on the ceiling of the deck reminiscent of rain falling on our tent when I was a child… soothing and rhythmic and alive.
The Red Plaid Apron 