Freezing

Spring is one of my least favorite times of year. April is a little better than March, but things don’t really start to look up until May, and I am only completely content with the weather come June.

I used to love the spring. In my home state there are two seasons, rainy and dry, so when I came to Utah I was thrilled to discover that leaves really do change in the fall, and snow really falls in the winter, and trees really blossom in the spring. It was one of those things that I knew about from reading books and watching movies, but I didn’t realize that I hadn’t actually believed it until I experienced it myself. After living in Utah for just a year, I decided that wherever I ended up, I wanted to live somewhere with all four seasons.

And I still stand by that. But in the intervening years, I have discovered that I have little tolerance for winter, and that my principle motivation in experiencing all four seasons is that it helps me better appreciate the summer.

Actually, autumn is all right. By that time, though I’m disappointed to see the warmth and sunlight leave, I’m ready for a change, and there’s something about the crispness of the first chill in the air, and the smell of cinnamon and nutmeg, and fires burning in fireplaces, and even the first dusty rumblings of our heater, that is just cozy and comforting. I know it is supposed to get colder, and so I welcome the last few days of sunshine, and don’t begrudge the cold and the shorter days. And then in November we move the clocks back and get one last taste of early sunrises and I am happy.

Spring is the opposite. I know it is supposed to get warmer, and so I resent the sporadic drops in temperature, and have a hard time enjoying the sunny days because I know that if we are walking around outside in short sleeves and flip-flops, chances are that the next day will bring a twenty-five degree drop in temperature, and maybe even a snow flurry or two. And just as the sun starts to come up early enough that I can leave the house for a run at six in the morning (my favorite time of day to run), we set our clocks forward and I am plunged into complete darkness until nearly seven.

I just can’t stand the inconsistency. Yes, I love the sunshine that we do get, but it just drives my standards higher—where not long ago fifty degrees felt like summer it now feels freezing, and where I was once absolutely thrilled if the thermometer reaches sixty, once it reaches seventy even once I am no longer satisfied with anything less. I don’t know why I have such a hard time appreciating all the good things about the spring weather, but I don’t. Ugh.