On Seasons

Inevitably, at the beginning of every season, I look out a window at the weather, ending its previous pattern and starting the new one, and think, “Wow, _______ really is my favorite season."

Today I’m thinking my favorite season is Spring, but that’s only because today is the first time I’ve seen it rain this year. The air smells like slightly moistened dirt and the sky is dark. The rain comes down a little at a time, as if it can’t decide whether it really wants to be here or not; it stops for a few seconds, then comes down hard the next minute. It’s chilly and the breeze would make me think twice about standing on the front porch to watch the rain. Porch perching is for summer storms.

I can remember sitting on the porch swing during the summer between my eighth grade and freshman year, watching sheets of rain come violently down as I listened through the sound of the thunder to a walkman play Savage Garden’s Truly, Madly, Deeply over & over again. The summer breeze was warmer, so there was no need to go inside, even though the occasional spray would be blown onto my bare legs, rocking the swing at the same time.

The best part about a fresh new school year in college was being showered by leaves while walking to class. The best autumn view on city campus at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln is walking from 12th & R, between the Sheldon Art Gallery and the College of Business Administration, to Oldfather Hall. It’s lined with tall trees, and in the distance you can see the columns that stand next to Memorial Stadium (Go Huskers). As you walk past Hamilton Hall, golden and red leaves float down to coat the ground: make way for the celebrity, she’s going to Anthro 203!

They moved Halloween in 1997. I had just turned 14 the week before, and my friends went home from my birthday sleepover, barely getting home before snow deluged the city. Power was out for days. I can remember huddling around a kerosene heater with my brothers as my father made macaroni and cheese. While being cold wasn’t so fun, we had days off of school and romped in the yard building various forts. There was a lot more snow for that sort of thing than usual that year.

The scents of Spring are my favorite. Ask me again in a couple of months and my mind will change to the sounds of Summer. A few months later I will favor the sights of Autumn. And when the snow comes again... I’ll be waiting for Spring.