Today is my favorite day of the year. Actually, it’s tied with a day we saw in March.
It’s the first day of autumn, which I anticipate with as much joy as the first day of spring. And when either of those days happen to coincide with picture-perfect weather worthy of that day, even better.
The windows are thrown open and air conditioner off. Sunny skies and mild temperatures invigorate me this weekend, boosting my energy enough to be way more active than usual.
I love change, and when we observe a fresh, new season, I’m giddy with anticipation. Well, that’s really not accurate – I don’t feel this when winter sets in. Summer…well, yes, I love June 21, but not like Sept. 22 or March 21.
December 21, I loathe. Probably because, by this point, in this part of the world, winter has already reared her ugly, unyielding head. And while the seasons are allotted equal days on calendars, summer and winter seem to hog more of their fair share.
And so, when the first day of fall actually looks, feels and smells like it should, it seems we’ve been given a gift, along with a reprieve from the 90s and the high humidity and the unbreathable air that we’ve had since early June. It’s a transition, and in this case, a very gentle transition, between the extremes of weather.
In a fair and just world, this weather would last until December 20, making the most of cool and comfortable temperatures and sunny skies. In a fair and just world, winter would rarely dip below 32 degrees, and would come and go gracefully and quietly, without brutal ice storms and wind chills below zero.
Spring would come just as expected, not when a rodent in Pennsylvania determines it will, and it would consist of gentle breezes and gentle spring showers and plenty of sunshine. And summer would keep its ridiculous scorching hot temperatures and suffocating humidity to a bare minimum, hauling them out once or twice, maybe, and certainly not for month after unbearable month.
The four seasons often seem like two seasons, with some transitional weather thrown in here and there. Maybe that’s why I love spring and fall so much – because they so rarely take full reign when it’s their turn. They are special, unexpected, brilliant and beloved. They’re like that friend from college you see far too infrequently, but when you do, you tear up the town.
Here in Indiana, we don’t often experience spring and autumn on their inaugural day. They seem to come whirling in a month late, stick around for a day or two, then sit back and allow the previous season to make an unwelcome comeback for another week or three. When you think about it, they are the lazy seasons. Perhaps like that old friend from college.
But I do love them. Dearly. And feel such wonder and happiness when they finally come to visit.