Living in Colorado, one might say we don’t really have seasons. We get 70° days in January and blizzards in May. Spring and fall are pretty much just a violent collusion of summer and winter.
We’ve been having shorts-and-tank-tops, oh-my-god-why-isnt-my-pool-open weather since March (mixed with the frequent snowstorm or rainy weekend) but that moment where suddenly its summer didnt happen until last week for me.
The smell of the air changes. The world has fully commited to awakening into summer. The nights might still be hovering in the 30s, but the mornings hold the promise of summer. The air is full of the smell of growing things, fresh cut grass and exhaust from noisy lawn mowers. The morning grass is full of dew and the light filters through young leaves, turning their edges gold. The evening air is perfumed by a warm breeze. The windows come open, teenagers hang aimlessly in front of the 7-11 and on playgrounds. The first measly, un-ripe peaches grace grocery store shelves, skirts are out to show off pale winter legs. Suddenly, its summer.
I think one of the most awe inspiring things in life is the changing of the seasons. Little signs here and there, harbringers of what’s to come, until suddenly one day its just there. The calendar might say the first day of summer is in late June. The weather might say that first warm weekend in April. But for me, it was solidly May 18th.
I love when the leaves gradually begin to fade and the days grow cooler in September and one day you wake up and its fall. I love when the first snow whispers about the winter wonderland to come and then one day its solidly winter. I love when the snow begins to melt and the world explodes in blossoms and the hiking trails are muddy and the baby animals come out and its suddenly spring.
But mostly, I love waking up to the realization that its summer. Because summer and me have been pals our whole life. And this summer is gonna be a wild one.