I don't actually mean 'seasonal' as in Christmas, but I have been thinking about the seasons, prompted by the return of our very own, 'Bobby Robin'.
It made me realise that I quite like the 'transitional' seasons, Spring and Autumn, if not actually prefer them. Summer, in itself, is nice, you get to spend more time outside, (hopefully) can dry washing on the line, (...hopefully) holidays and all that, but it's nice and that's about it. Winter I do quite like, I don't mind the cold and I don't mind a blustery day, but I don't like horizontal rain. A bracing walk in a frozen, still landscape with clear blue skies is bliss. Struggling into force ten gales against driving rain, is not.
Autumn is full of change and colour, it's where the circle begins for me. The return of 'Bobby' means I'm going to be treated to birdsong all day and sometimes all night from my little friend and he's company in the garden, when I'm finishing tidying up before winter sets in. I can watch him strutt his stuff, marking out his territory, just incase any other robin was under the misapprehension it was up for grabs. I know now it won't be long before the geese arrive, to over-winter on the marshes where I go for my walk most days. The early mornings and nights are going to be filled with their haunting call.
We'll have these visitors all through winter, then, early spring, my morning walk will suddenly be filled with the song of other birds, marking their territories and trying to attract a partner. Did you know, they each have theirown perch where they sing, the same time and place, everyday? Creatures of habit, just like me. The countryside bursts into colour and leaf. Then, come summer, it all goes quiet and the birds are getting on the busy job we all know and love as parents of providing for the children. Deep joy.
So, that's what I think about the seasons, some are better than others, but not necessarily the same that you may have thought.