Seasons

Spring. Flower blossoms begin to bloom, tiny dots of pink and white show on the tops of tree bows. Birds chirp happily, the sunlight basks everything in a mellow yellow. The air smells fresh, the breeze is a mild cool breath, everything seems to dazzle a bit. I think of the sound of a baseball bat, the smell of freshly mowed lawn, the sound of crickets by the creek, the tranquility of perfect warm, glowing sunshine. Footsteps are lighter, fashions are cuter, freckles are darker. In the springtime, new things seem suddenly possible. Maybe you'll finally kiss that boy, today you'll go for that run around the track, you'll make a fabulous meal, or do something crazy with your girlfriends. Spring is the artistic season. The season of paint brushes and poems and piano movements and, my personal favorite, roses.

Summer. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen comes to mind. You walk outside and feel like a cookie being popped into a warm oven. Oh how I long for those lazy days of summer. Ice tea and lemonade, lounging by water, hikes down creeks, long primrose twilights. Summer nights are my favorite. What seems to have wilted during the day become revitalized with the peaceful calm of the setting sun. The stars are especially breathtaking. When I imagine summer, I see campfires with smores,endless card games, candles, the hum of fans, movie nights, smoothies and ice cream. In the summer, you can feel your whole self recharge. You can dream of exotic vacations with palm trees and an aqua ocean with smooth white beaches. Summer is the adventurous season. The season of hiking, camping, swimming, boating, and, my favorite, traveling.

Autumn. Just the name itself speaks of mystery, intrigue, beauty, artistry. Leaves turn into brilliant shades of emerald, burgundy, orange, and gold. The whole world seems turned into a fairy world. Fogs roll in, bewitching the world with its secrecy. The rain begins to replenish the green earth, causing unfurled umbrellas and frolicking in puddles. Stormy clouds make the house seem cozy and the grey sky seems eerie in a fascinating, magical way. Blankets, socks, and scarfs come back into use. I think of the smell of wood burning, the rain pattering, the teapot whistling. Autumn is the romantic season. The season of intimacy, of friendship, of reflection, of beauty, of, my favorite, reading.

Winter. There is a gentle hush, the soft downy flakes of snow, the wild stormy nights, the taste of rich dark hot chocolate. Twinkle lights begin to introduce the Christmas season. Christmas. Excitement, cheer, joy, decorations, memories. The world seems bare and stark and grey, yet it is beautiful in its melancholy. If the snow comes, it covers everything in pure white and the world is transformed into a wonderland of magic. The nip of the crystal cold air leaves an invigorating energy. Snow men, the smell of a heater, woolen caps, the soft silence of snow covered terrain. I think of chocolate, the aromatic smell of pine trees, the tinkle of ornaments, the vibrant green color against the white of snow, the aroma of fresh baked cookies, the soft crunch of boots on snow, the twinkling of clear icicles in the shallow sunlight. Winter is the season of memories. The season of following age old traditions, of being cozy, of playing the same games in the snow, of being together as a family.