Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Random ruminations

I’ve decided, at least in part, why I don’t particularly care for summer.

Fall is a lot different from summer. The leaves change color, turning beautiful shades of red, orange and yellow. Eventually they fall off the trees entirely. The temperature grows noticeably cooler week by week, and the sky can be clear blue, change to blue and white and then to threatening and gray--all before noon.

Winter is a lot different from fall. The temperature is cold. We (sometimes) get snow and ice. A whole range of fun outdoor activities can only be done in the winter and are possible again. The trees are bare.

Spring is a lot different from winter. The snow melts, the temperatures warm. The forest starts to grow again and soon everything is green. The temperature warms week by week. Rain is common.

And then there’s summer. It’s pretty much the same as spring, except hotter and more humid, perhaps with a bit less rain. Where’s the difference? Well, there isn’t much of one. I think part of my dislike for summer is simply that it doesn’t look much different from spring. I’m bored, I think. Summer, ho-hum, more of the same. At least that’s my theory for today.

This weekend, I had both spring and summer—hot and cool, sun and rain, thunder and lightning. The chickens are still well and safe.


Wanda said...

It's the humidity of summer that I dread...I agree...the only season with a fault!

Carolyn H said...

Wanda, i hate when the humidity keeps the temperature from dropping in the evening. And when it's 90+ with humidity, my ambition and energy melt.

Maybe I'd like summer better if it at least looked different than spring--purple leaves or orange sky or something really different would help.

Carolyn H.

Anonymous said...

For me, it is the bugs!


The-Grizzled-But-Still-Incorrigible-Scribe-Himself! said...

You got it exactly—summer is a bummer! I LOVE spring, love autumn, really, really like winter…and tolerate summer. I can do about a week or two of it and then I've had my fill.

I don't like summer's heat, humidity, and monotone green. It boring, uncomfortable, and…too summerish.

A friend who (thankfully!) lives on a different river, tells me there always comes a time in late July when summer simply overpowers him—at which point he buys a gallon or two of jug wine, takes all his clothes off, and just sits in a riffle from about 8 p.m. until midnight or whenever the wine runs out, or he get too drunk and the current washes him downstream.

There are days—and especially some sweltering sleepless nights in August—when I swear I get to thinking he may have the right approach.…

Lynne at Hasty Brook said...

Bugs, heat and HUMIDITY. Blech!