They say that no matter what season it is, you are wishing for another. That is simply just not true for me. I would be happy to have summer 364 days per year (I need snow on Christmas, it’s pretty!)
At the end of summer I feel wistful and sad. I look forward to the pretty colors of fall, and the smell of wood smoke, but as soon as that first snow falls I am missing warmth.
I do NOT feel at all sad or wistful at winter’s end. In fact, I wish it would hurry up. I keep thinking of little things like lemonade, fireflies, and just going outside without having to bundle up or put on shoes (I am barefoot or in flip-flops for 99% of summer).
Winter gave what I hope is its final salute the other day. It snowed all morning, but spring won when around noon the sun came up and warmed the land, causing much of the snow to become slushy and melt. Today was just as beautiful and sunny, and I even cracked my car window and felt the cool breeze on my face.
Hurry up, summer. My hands are cold and I miss you.