seasons change

Every morning this week the fog has been so thick that it seems I should be able to touch it, brush it away with my hand. Out my window you would swear there should be an ocean harbour, boats rocking gently in early morning waters. All you'd really see is a lawn, beyond that a field, beyond that a road lined by a barbed wire fence, and beyond that farmland. The nearest water is treatment plant freshwater resevoir a few clicks north.

This morning when I walked up to the door at work, a flock of 62 geese (yes, I really counted them (not my photo btw, found it online) as I stood fixed in the parking lot) flew over my head, already headed south for the winter. If I remember rightly, they didn't even get here until June this year, a bit behind schedule, and somehow watching the beginning of their departure now, in August, leaves me feeling desolate, sad and lonely. The beauty of the sunrise (which usually makes me stop a second to pause and marvel) was lost on me this morning when I looked out the window from my bed. It was only a couple of weeks ago that I got to wake with sun on my face, as it tickled my chin like a cat, gently and playfully rousing me from dreams. Now, the sun is barely on the horizon when I wake, and in a couple of weeks it will be dark on my morning run to work, and then even as I sit at my desk and start my day. It seems strange to say, but I feel like I'm losing a friend to the darkness.

Seasons change, every year, it is inevitable I know this. Our winter is long here in the prairie, staying from about October or November through April or May, bringing with it the darkness, which hangs outside my windows while I wake up, and returns before it is time to go home at the end of the day. Spring comes for May and June, Summer is here for July and part of August, and then Fall for 2 months to take us back to 6-8 m.o.n.t.h.s of winter.

Before I had lived somewhere else, somewhere Spring comes in March, Summer stays until October, and Winter only starts to peek out around Christmas, I never put much thought into our seasons. Before I spent time in Florida, India, the Philippines and other incredible places in SE Asia and found an endless summer, I never went much beyond simply resenting the -40 temperatures and the days of plugging my car in. Now as the briefest summer in my recollection starts to pull up post for Fall, it seems as though my home sweet home has lost its sweetness, and I long for greener (and warmer) pastures.

I look out the window now and the fog has nearly lifted as the sun starts to rise, painting a soft pink line along the horizon in a pale blue early morning sky. The lawn starts to sparkle as the dew catches a bit of early morning light, and the wheat field across the road is standing blonde and lovely. While the beauty of the prairies is not totally lost on me, I think this morning I will spend my coffee time planning a vacation...