I realized, this morning, that about 5 weeks from now, my youngest, Dani will be done with Preschool. David will follow 2 weeks later, from Kindergarten and we will be in to summer vacation. Looking outside at the snow coming down, it doesn't seem likely summer will be here anytime soon. But, there it is, on the calendar, circled and labeled.
Just like with every year in Vermont, the seasons are sneaking up on me. Though I am entitled to complain when it doesn't work in my favor, I secretly kind of like the surprise of it all. It doesn't matter what weather is thrown at us on any given day. Tomorrow could be completely different. There's always that glimmer of hope that the next day will bring something new. Seasons, up here, come and go at will. They don't gradually make an entrance. They shoot in, loudly announcing their arrival, and then, shoot out again with a giggle. I like to think of it as a game of whack-a-mole. Sometimes, if you're lucky, you plan it just right and hit the best of the day. Other times, you hit an empty hole. It makes it really hard to schedule things, but at the same time, surrounds me with that eclectic feel I love. We get the chance to experience what every season has to offer and have learned to appreciate the sunny days, something those that live in constantly mild weather would have a hard time understanding. Even the plants in my yard know the pattern. They don't come on a set day. They just pop up at the 1st opportunity and I'll look out my window to see a garden full of flowers where there was just a pile of snow. No matter what doubts I have in my mind about the seasons, they will be here, eventually. Soon, after weeks of cold, crummy weather, I'll wake up to sunshine and 70s, and a new hope for the season to come.