Seasons

I just today realized that the notion of changing season hasn't crossed my mind at all this September. Though I may have skipped winter altogether for the past two years, I have definitely had Autumn. My favorite season, I do believe. And it was a little strange for me to just realize - because I read about it somewhere - that the equinox has occurred.

Yes, there's the apples (and all things apple related: donuts, cider, butter), the heavy beers, the football. But it's that first deep breath on the first real day of Autumn, when the cold air enters your nostrils and spikes your lungs with a cold freshness that I most enjoy. Sweaters and jeans. Amber sunsets. A suddenly vanishing humidity.

Maybe what I like about the seasonal change is that it's a visceral reminder that time is passing. That if there are things we want to change or improve or alter, we better get on it, because time isn't waiting for us. The snow is going to come, the sun will go down at 4:30 p.m. soon - so get everything done while you can.

Maybe that's why things move much slower in Hawaii. That evolving weather doesn't happen (though locals will tell you that they have two seasons here. And they call one of them winter. By winter they mean, it rains and drops to a blustery 70 degrees. And if I'm honest, I'll admit that this "winter", I'll be shivering along with the rest of the Hawaiians.) But compared to what I've known for 30 years, there is no visceral measurement of time passing. Everyday could be January 12 or August 4 or November 26. There's no rush to get things accomplished before the weather makes it impossible. No final run outside before the air doesn't only spike your lungs, but pierces right through.

I needed that change when I lived in New England. I needed things to constantly be evolving, changing, moving forward and in a direction away from where I didn't want to be. I was in a rush to have community, friends, connection, and when it wasn't happening fast enough, the season would change and I'd look elsewhere. But I can't do that in Hawaii. And I'm glad for it. I have to learn patience. I have to be okay with a slower evolution. I have to immerse in what's here now, rather than preparing for what comes next. Because if I think about it, I can't keep shutting up my house, bringing my plants inside and hibernating when emotional winter comes to bare. Instead, I need to look around and see that the things I'm trying to grow can flourish all year round here in Hawaii.

And while I'm not ready for it yet, maybe one day I'll figure out how to harvest those winter carrots in New England.