A change of philosophy

Last week it was so, so cold. This week, the rain has come and gone, but the icy Winter wind stopped by to let us know she is still powerful, even if Spring was beginning to drown her out.

Yesterday we had a top of 23- and only a few weeks into September, the sun already hits different to the gentle rays of August.

Today it's clear that Spring is masquerading. She's all sundresses and dappled sunlight and flowers blooming at first glance.

Then she'll hit you with the wicked winds and a dizzying pollen attack. She's also responsible for the savage swooping magpies and the 2:00am willy wagtail call - particularly loud when the moon is bright.

Dare I say it, Spring is kind of sinister. She's a good time gal who dips when the going gets tough.

She's the self involved friend, always loud in silent disapproval; happy to say mean things in rooms you're not in.

Spring is most definitely the boss who promises you a payrise, but secretly takes credit for the work behind your back.

We all have a friend with an utterly average husband who is totally useless but gets a free ride because he’s a ‘good bloke’. Spring.

But Spring is here. She's staying for the next couple of months and like clockwise, she'll be back next year.

And so, with the quiet resignation of someone who is learning (by being humbled a lot) in her late 30's, I've realised a change of philosophy may be required.

Apparently I am not going to be able to perpetually skip spring, and so this year, I will try to refrain from (too loudly) singing 'Wake me up, when September ends'.

In my side quest to be less seasonally biased, it turns out there is no roadmap that shows how to stop hating the shittiest season. It also turns out that I am not alone - with a friend echoing my sentiments in a recent conversation when I moaned about the weather. Maybe a pros and cons list would help ?!! Solid start; except this approach was stopped short, hindered by the fact that I'm less positive polly and more cynical Sabrina. The debater in me (third negative...) easily rebutted any of the pros, and so we had to change tack.

Maybe If I can just define it, I can love it. You know "To understand all, is to forgive all.” 

Spring is contradictions, it's the paradoxes. It's irony and juxtaposition. She's hayfever, first swims, wind burnt lips and soirees in the sun. Spring may be the beautiful friend whose 3 year old child has had a world shattering cancer diagnosis, but somehow manages to keep her family afloat. She is drowning and a life buoy all at once.

Spring could be the little boy who trundles off to school every morning despite desperately wishing he could be anywhere else - preferably near the water or on a boat- but definitely not in a classroom, even if he's been bribed with a lunch order.

Spring is the friend who is a ship in the night. She loves you from a distance but feels exactly like home when you check in every now and again.

Spring may also be the blunt pal who gives you stern but sage advice you didn't ask for; the kind that stings like billyo at the time, but is actually the medicine you needed.

Spring is the chances you didn't take. It's feeling so alive in a situation, but knowing it's all wrong, acknowledging it cannot possibly last.

And so, with that in mind, I shall dose up on claratyne and steel myself with the fact that Spring eventually gives way into Summer.

Summer heat is scorching and diabolical but it means time at the beach, diving beneath the beautiful blue waves and eating crab on a warm summer evening.

Summer then fades into Autumn - endless cups of tea, and beautiful falling leaves, contentment and starry skies - which then leads us into Winter; the season of the sticks, eating soup and hibernation.

Until, after the solstice, the days get longer- bit by bit and we're back again. In Spring. Warming my bones in the morning sun, and wishing away the winds. I’ll be waiting for the elm to bloom, ducking for cover and wondering where the precious time has gone.