The Extraordinary "Good Manners" of the Northeastern Seasons

For me, there are very few things more relaxing or rewarding than resting my head upon the soft, warm head of my velvety-eared dog and hearing her deeply exhale. That grateful sigh, that moment of "Ahhhhhh...You've found me...It's my turn again...My life if good!" It's a moment of realignment for me, of tilting the balance back towards the things that truly matter. It's a recalibration, a graceful adjustment, an acknowledgment of the Now.

In the Northeastern United States, this is what the four seasons seem to do--adjust and balance. As soon as one season has reached the tipping point of enjoyment--that point where it's gotten to be just a bit too much for us--presto! It changes. It exits stage left, politely making way for the grand entrance of the next season. It's the perfect balancing act. Certainly, there have been the anomalies, the rare years when one of the seasons has forgetten its cue--a blizzard in October, a shivery-shiver day in August--but for the most part, they behave accordingly, thank you very much!

So, while we may talk (crazy-talk) of moving to a tropical island, or California, or New Zealand, or any place that isn't this place, I know in my heart that I cannot leave this respectful balance of the seasons and what each one heralds: The changing leaves, the falling snow, the bursting blossoms, and the balmy beach--each one, delicious and dramatic. I am so grateful that the seasons take their turns in my neck of the woods--like the most well-behaved of children, or like patient dogs resting in the corners of a cozy room--each giving the other its equal time to shine.

Your turn: Do the four seasons take turns in your neck of the woods, or do some hog the stage more than others?

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