Friday, August 20, 2010

seasons? sure.

I'm excited for fall. I've always loved fall (or autumn, for you sophisticated folks). There's something beautiful in the crisp edge that makes its way into the air, an exciting tingle that bubbles up inside me at the sound of crackling leaves and a cool breeze. In childhood fall was freedom from sweltering summer heat, a promise of black cats and jack-o-lanterns, crappy home-made Halloween costumes, and tables full of food at Thanksgiving. Fall was a returning to school books, pencils, and a new pair of shoes.

Now, as an adult (and I use the word loosely--I don't think I'll ever grow up), fall is still freedom from heat, Halloween, and turkey. It is football and corn mazes, popcorn and carnivals. I don't know why I associate these with fall, but I do. But for the past few years it wasn't school, only a continuation of the work that was summer. Those were the times I enjoyed fall the least, perhaps.

I was thinking of this the yesterday as I was traipsing across campus at the University of Alabama (beautiful campus, by the way!), where I've been participating in a weekend-long orientation for the graduate program I'm starting this fall. I'm excited to be starting this new program, though I was undoubtedly hesitant and intimidated until the moment I arrived (I'm still intimidated a bit). I'd forgotten how great it feels to be presented with the prospect of learning, of progress, of change.

Change.

Then I thought, that's really the reason that I love fall. Change.

Because I don't only love the fall. I love the Spring. Every year, I love the flowers, the explosion of azalea pinks, the floral-scented air and the welcome warmth after a frigid winter. I love the brightly colored skirts and sandals, and I love the way the marsh of the Carolina lowcountry seems to finally wake up, how the putrid smell of marsh-mud sweeps across the rivers as the spartina grass finally turns that perfect shade of green.

And I love the summer. I love that first day when the heat finally settles in, when it's so hot that people gravitate towards the water and its breezes and stay, still, too hot to move. I love the roar of waves, their steady report and hot sand under my feet. I love the thought of snowcones, their juices overflowing their flimsy paper cups; the anticipation of boats and jet skis and sliding across pluff mud while angry hermit crabs do their worst.

And I love the winter (at first--this gets old the fastest). I like pulling out my long, soft jacket and wearing it for the first time, wrapping up in blankets and drinking hot chocolate with friends. Sometimes, if we're lucky here in South Carolina (and last year we definitely were!), we might get to see a snowflake or two.

I love all these things about each season, but what I love most is the change. I love the change of seasons. That is what I look forward to more than anything else. After a while each season becomes dull, and tiresome, tedious and at times unbearable. Too much heat, too much cold, too much pollen. The fact that seasons are constantly changing, with a reliability as old as earth, is, I think, tremendous. And, as I walked across the humid campus here in Tuscaloosa, I had the thought that pattern of change God laid out on this earth ought to be a pattern for my life.

I am a firm believer that ours is a world made 'on purpose,' though the means in which it was created is up for debate. I don't know how God did it. Everything has a pattern, everything fits together in a sweeping, natural rhythm. Things are the way they are for a reason, and I should learn from them. I should embrace changes, and welcome new seasons of my life. I have always been a person reluctant to let go of good things, which is not inherently a bad trait. I try to cling to what was, afraid and unspeakably saddened at the prospect of good things fading away. However, there comes a time for summer to end, for fall to begin. In the world the most beautiful times of year are those times of change. Though for the plants and actual earth going through these transitions the change of seasons is most likely a difficult, strenuous, time-demanding process, from our perspective, we can see the beauty of it all.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm just thinking as I type, alone here in my giant hotel room (free upgrade to a suite? Yes, thank you!). Maybe I'm just trying to convince myself that this new direction my life is taking, school and career-wise, is good. Maybe I'm just realizing something that I've theoretically known my whole life.

Also, fancy hotel suites are boring by yourself. And lonely, too. I'll be glad to head home on Sunday. :)