Seasons

As the temperatures begin to drop, especially overnight, I once again must come to terms with the change of seasons, the end of summer. This morning was the first since last spring that I wore one of my long sleeve t-shirts when I went for my walk. Of course, it is much less concerning to me now that I have moved back to Texas. During the quarter century we lived in Virginia, we experienced four discrete seasons. But I think we felt the change most acutely in the fall, which always seemed to announce its approach shortly after Labor Day. Nearly every year our condo association would optimistically extend the swimming pool season into the first weeks of September, only to have an early cold spell discourage everyone from outdoor swimming. Fall came early, but lingered, generally well into December. And frequently we enjoyed a sort of Middle Atlantic Indian summer; sometimes in late September, or even October, on warm weekends we could go walking in the parks and photograph the changing colors of the Autumn leaves.

Perhaps the changing colors is what I miss most about a climate with four seasons. What I do not miss, even though many probably would, is the winter snowfall. Everyone always says it's so beautiful, and of course, it is, when it's falling and you're watching from your high rise windows as snow flakes drift down and cover the trees and lawns. But the next morning, when you awaken to the sight of three feet of snow on the parking lot and roads, and you have to put on layers of clothing and snow boots before going down to catch the shuttle to the Metro, hoping both are running so you can slog your way in to work, then it's not such a pretty sight. Even worse are those storms that linger for days, so that eventually you have to take a snow shovel and dig your car out so you can make a run to the grocery store, negotiating streets only partially cleared of snow and ice, and parking lots with great mountainous piles of brown ice taking up half of the available parking spaces. Then you no longer think what a beautiful sight the snow is. No one ever sent a card wishing season's greetings with such scenes of brown slush, although these are much closer the reality of urban winter wonderlands.

I always thought that February was the cruelest month. Even though it was the the shortest, it seemed to go on forever with its darkness and freezing cold. I would think to myself, back in Texas they're already looking for signs of spring, but those will not come to us in Virginia until late April or May. On a couple of occasions we attempted to escape to Florida, once venturing as far as Key West, to escape the long winter, but such brief respite is no substitute for moving back to Texas. The other two seasons were not so bad, although spring seemed to last only a few brief weeks before we were back in what J and I always considered glorious summer, and everyone else complained was unendurable heat and humidity. Thankfully, air conditioning makes summer comfortable even in the south. With the return of warm weather we would venture out more, taking trips to local sites and getting away to the mountains of Shenandoah National Park and the beaches of Rehoboth. And there was also relaxing by the condo's outdoor pool, although I tended to prefer the indoor pool even during the summer months.

Frequently, as summer drew to a close, we would spend that last weekend prior to Labor Day at the beach in Delaware, hoping we would avoid the early hurricanes that often threatened our holiday. But as we drove back to Virginia we would think we could already detect the early signs of Autumn in the air, a certain chill that hadn't been there just a week before, and that feeling of dread would come over us. But all of that has changed now. Here in the Texas Hill Country our summers last from May through October. Ninety degree weather is not uncommon even in November. The nights may get a little chilly, but the warm days linger. There are cold snaps, of course, even some freezing temperatures from time to time, but these quickly give way to warmer days and thoughts of an early spring. While some of the locals complain that there are only two seasons, hot and warm, I'm delighted to report that I've rarely had to go looking for one of the many winter coats I brought with me when we moved back, and those snow boots are still gathering dust in my closet, or they would be if I hadn't finally donated them to Goodwill.

Now our end of summer beach vacations take us to Hawaii in September, and when we return home, it's with the full knowledge that summer, far from being almost over, has at least another couple of months to go. The only problem is, now I'm starting to wonder if maybe it wouldn't be better to live in Hawaii year round, where there really is only one season, and there would be no need for any winter coats at all, just an ample supply of shorts and sandals and Aloha shirts. It's something to think about as our Texas winter approaches.