by Chris Burroughs
Of all the seasons, perhaps Spring is the best:
So fresh. So new.
So lilac-y and dandelion-y.
Spring is like that precious infancy time of being.
It’s exciting, energizing…so toddlerlike.
But then, Summer’s good:
Children squealing in sprinklers.
Leaves casting shadows.
Everything so rosy and dandelion-y.
So warmly friendly…like pre-schoolers I have known and loved.
Summer…a time of freedom from slickers and boots.
A time for chatting over fences and sitting on porches.
Well, Autumn is not too bad:
School busses reminding us to slow down.
And that crisp nip in the air.
The sniffing of burning campfires.
And the remaining dandelions, aged with gray puffs, ready for pursed lips.
Maybe, just maybe, Winter is best:
Melting marshmallows swirling in hot chocolate.
Handmade afghans for snuggling.
The surprise of a sudden snowfall.
A time for reflection and remembrance of the year’s sweet times.
Anticipation of coming seasons and those bright, dancing dandelions.
So, I am wishy-washy over which season to prefer. It’s like the seasons of life I have known…each has brought its own special joys; each offering times to cherish.
Image source: https://tinyurl.com/ywuu8ytc