Seasons of Love

The crunch of leaves under your feet snaps you back from daydreaming; you look around to see if anyone has noticed as you pull your scarf in closer toward your face…

I’ll be honest, the change of seasons from either summer to winter or winter to spring can feel bittersweet sometimes. It is during these shifts that everything seems amplified. Colors are brighter. Smells are sweeter. Tastes are better. The bitter side of this is that I have traditionally associated this amplification not with the actual shift of seasons but rather with a powerful four letter word: love. When the cool weather rolls in, my mind immediately turns to long walks hand-in-hand or picking pumpkins together or … coupled activities. It’s all I’ve ever known. Spring and fall have been the times that my heart swells and I either witness the stress of the winter months melt or the tempers of summer cool.

I do anticipate this fall to be full of fun, excitement, adventure, and new faces but I have also begun to brace myself against the heart pangs of an unheld hand. I am happy as I am but it ought to be noted that ingrained tendencies are hard to unlearn whether we want to unlearn them or not.

This fall will be the first fall in eight years that I am not in love with one man or another who has come into my life and swept me off my feet. Eight years, that’s a long time (eight years is a very long time when you’re only twenty-three). And that is the timing of it. It’s not even that I’ve been in a relationship over the past eight fall seasons; I’ve been in love. If you, as I do, feel slightly nauseated by my last sentence, I should tell you that you have interpreted it exactly as I meant it, that sickly sweet romance that causes birds to sing and stars to shine brighter in the night sky. Some say it’s the cry of the hopeless romantic. I’m inclined to read it as being a lot more hopeless than romantic but c’est la vie.

It’s an interesting notion but I’ve decided that it’s time to separate my love of fall from my love of love. Colors really are brighter, smells really are sweeter, and tastes really are better during fall. I needn’t have my hand held to appreciate that.

“Mama’s Song” Carrie Underwood – Heard this on the radio today; Carrie Underwood always moves me. And no, it doesn’t have to be in opposition to my post today. I’m a long way away from the sentiments in this song, but it is a beautiful song.

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