My husband proclaimed yesterday that “summer was officially over” with the end of the long weekend. He said this with great sadness. I admit, this summer seemed fast, cold and too short. Starting a new job ate my summer, and the terrible weather that we experienced here in Alberta made what little time I did have seem unsummery at best. No real family holidays or even weekend camping trips made the summer feel wasted.
But I don’t feel sad saying hello to fall. I enjoy fishing those sweaters out of my closet, the crispness of the morning air, and the smell of leaves. I look forward to return to routine for my family, and lives for my children outside my home. I like fall.
My husband doesn’t feel the same way. Because fall can only mean one thing, the inevitable return of winter. He hates winter. I love winter. I look forward to that first snow fall, to hear the sound of snow crunching under your feet, the briskness of the cold air, and the nights curled up watching snow fall while snuggled under a blanket.
I like that the cold of winter leads to the rebirth of Spring, the appearance of the first green shoots through the ground and the buds on the trees. I look forward to the smell of the first rain, and the return of the colour green to my life, after two seasons of brown. As the days get longer and warmer, the excitement of summer and being able to spend more and more time outside builds, until it is finally here.
Living in a place like Canada, gives you a true appreciation for each season, and its differences from the one preceding it. Each of them leads to new and exciting changes, and yet makes you yearn for the following one.
So, to my husband, I say this: summer may be over, but it really only means that it is around the corner. Now, where is my sweater?