As the weather swelters and summer approaches, my days in the south are finally numbered. After years of wishing my time here away, having never truly fit in, it’s time to move on. New adventures await! But, before I can look ahead, I’ve become overwhelmed with unexpected love and nostalgia for this place that I long fought and, let’s face it, has always fought (no, more like brutalized!) me.
So, I don’t know what is up with this southern weather, but technically, it is Spring, and I, for once (it only took 20 years after moving here!) am fully embracing this most stubbornly warm and beautiful season. Call it early-onset nostalgia, call it pollen induced hysteria, but apparently hell has frozen over, and I’m actually enjoying the warmer weather. Who knew! But – South, make up your mind, please. I mean really, I just don’t get it. I will never understand the way things work down here, but you just can’t have gorgeous roses blooming all over the damn place one day and snow the next. Come on! What gives??? Where are the seasons?!
Fall brings with it crisp air and that nostalgic feeling that is un-paralleled any other time of the year. It makes you want to cozy up with some cider, maybe a good book, or even better, your love, by the fireplace. It’s filled with day-dreamy days of wanderlust and a sort of peaceful bliss.
Growing up in the South… wait. Let me rephrase that. Mostly growing up in the South, you learn a lot about living off of the land, farming, appreciating your surroundings. Not that I didn’t before. I mean, I grew up navigating the red woods of northern California chasing off bears, mountain lions and lost hippies. But down here, everything’s much slower, much more indulgent.