It’s pretty easy to tell when the seasons are changing in Nebraska. Don’t look at the calendar, that’s only a guide.
Here’s the real scoop: if it’s snowing, it’s winter. It doesn’t matter if it’s barely October. That snow is going to be there until May-ish, so you’d better get used to it.
The way you can tell if it’s summer is if the air conditioner is on. Middle of September? Feh; if it’s 97 out, it’s summer. I don’t care what color the trees think their leaves are.
Not all places have the indicators for autumn and spring that my house does, but we know the season has changed by the tiny bugs trying to gain access to our home. Just when the weather’s nice enough to start tossing the windows open, I can’t, other wise I’ll have a zillion mini insects everywhere. The only nice part about them is that there’s no reason to have an argument on whether it’s winter anymore: if they’re there, it’s spring.
Thunderstorms, bunnies chasing around after one another and hopping adorably, sitting out on the porch on a foggy morning to write... It’s awesome.
Although my fingers are a bit cold, I’d never have been out here a month ago, when there was snow on the ground, without freezing my butt off and complaining that I was freezing my butt off.
Except the weather report says it’s supposed to snow tomorrow.