When I moved from my small hometown of Glenburn, Maine to busy Lafayette, Louisiana, I knew something was terribly wrong when October came and the trees still had all their leaves. I sadly realized that I had moved to a city that only had one and a half seasons- summer and half of a winter. I now have to resort to my memory to remember those seasons that danced with my senses so that I too can live in a place that goes through the four seasons.
I believe in summer, the season that is meant for me to be outside, letting myself bathe in the beauty of postcard-esque scenery, not inside praising my metal air conditioner. I remember wading through the cool streams, letting schools of fish tickle my toes or looking over a mountain, seeing lobster boats decorate the coast like Christmas lights. It is a time to shine the world’s beauty like those gargantuan lighthouses atop the rocky vistas. It is a time to let all your worries go as you plunge into the refreshing waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
I believe in autumn, the season that makes me happy to get up in the morning. The crunch of leaves under my feet as I walk to school or the singing wind playing in my hair as I choose the perfect pumpkin from my garden are lullabies to my ears. I long to hear the voices of little children yelling, “Trick-or-treat!” under the beams of light from the gentle moon. I was the only child that got excited when my mother would tell me to put on my sweater because I knew my favorite season was almost at my doorstep.
I believe in winter, the season that is packed with so many traditions and joy you feel like you’re going to explode with excitement. It is the most glamorous season of all as glittering snow blankets the ground and crystalline icicles hang from my window. The crisp, cold air stings my nose with such force, that it makes me happy to know that I have a mother inside making hot chocolate for my brother and me. Looking out my grandmother’s frozen window, watching the train’s smoke engulf the soft snowflakes on Christmas Eve is a picture that will never cease to amaze me.
Lastly, I believe in spring, the season that warms us and prepares us for this amazing cycle that is about to start all over again. As you walk across the barren baseball field, the smell of mud absorbs the air and getting stuck knee high in that dirty muck isn’t such a bad thing anymore when you know you have your dad to come pluck you out. You can almost see the lilac trees bloom in front of your eyes as you walk to the mailbox. The sweet smell of the apple tree blossoms is an aroma you just can’t get tired of.
I believe everyone should have the chance to experience this exquisite gift that Mother Earth shares with us. I want to be able to see each distinct season change in front of my very eyes. I don’t think it is fair to let something that magnificent to be experienced only in memory. I believe in the four seasons.
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