Transition Periods.

It is in our nature to be resistant to change.

No matter the size of the change, most people tend to have a varying degree of apprehension to any perceived change in their daily lives. Change equals unknown, unknown equals potential danger. Even though most of the changes that affect our daily lives are not actually dangerous in modern society, our brains and bodies have evolved over hundreds of thousands of years to still reject things that don't fall into our spectrum of 'normal'. After all, 10,000 years ago a small change in where we collect our berries could mean the difference between being eaten by a cave bear or not. Familiarity is comfortable and safe to us.

Knowing change is coming tends to stir up feelings of anxiety and unease within us; even if it is something as mundane as the change of season. We often tend to brace ourselves for impact when the impending transition of season grows closer, making us resent very natural processes. In my neck of the woods its not uncommon to hear people say things such as "ugh, I'm not ready to put the winter tires on" or "I'm dreading the summer temperatures". I've been guilty of saying these things myself. We often see these acts of nature as an inconvenience to our lives rather than what they truly are- a neutral and essential part of the natural world. Autumn doesn't turn to winter in order to revel in the fact it just made us spend $80 getting our tires switched over. These things happen for no reason other than things just do stuff sometimes for reasons out of our control.

The change of the season can be incredibly inspiring if you can manage to strip away the mud, insect bites, seasonal allergies, and sub zero temperatures from the equation. Transitions to spring and summer are always the most eagerly awaited; those seasons bring about new life, greenery, wildlife, picnics. The less appreciated transitions seem to be summer to autumn, autumn to winter. I have always appreciated those two season the most. Every time the leaves start to turn at the end of August, I am hit with a certain sense of friendly familiarity. Summer with her 'it girl' personality is being evicted and in comes autumn, that old pal you haven't seen in ages, ready to tell you of all the adventures and stories that have happened since the last time he saw you. You both nestle in to your lawn chairs in the backyard excited to catch up, and not wanting to be a bad guest you run inside to fetch you both a drink. You return to the backyard after 5 minutes and he has left already, leaving a note on the table saying something has come up but he will see you again soon.

The transition from autumn to winter is a bit of a harder one. My old friend autumn graced me with his hello and left abruptly, leaving me eagerly waiting for his return. I don't appreciate winters arrival as much because, "uh, hello? I want to visit with autumn not winter". Winter brings a starkness with his arrival. The trees stand naked and exposed for the world to see and there is supposed to be more to the picture- the catch is that its buried under a quilt of snow. I thought I'd be sad with autumns Irish goodbye; after all, a part of me floats away with the leaves every fall. But after winter has been here for a bit I know that despite the arctic winds howling at night, all winter wants is for us to appreciate him. He is hard to love at times but when you take the time to truly see him we can see his beauty if we look hard enough. He lovingly plays with our hair when we step outside, decorating us with tiny geometric snowflakes. He gifts us periods of long rest, allowing us to recover from our fast-paced summers. He lends beautiful pale coats to the bunnies to keep them warm during his visit. The aurora borealis colors dance in his crisp night sky, putting on a show for us and the stars. And when winter overstays his welcome which he inevitably does, we can take solace in knowing that spring will eventually come for a visit, and with her exciting, child-like babbling she will bring the flowing of rivers which were once frozen over. The animals wake up when they hear her arrive, and once she too moves on to her next endeavor, summer is back with her 'it girl' antics and just like that, a year has passed and our good friend autumn will be back in town again soon.

"Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance." — Yoko Ono