Changing Seasons

I uttered three words the other day that made me think how much I've changed in the last 15 years: "I hate winter."

This wasn't always true. When I was a kid, of course I loved winter. Winter meant all things fun - making snowmen, snow forts, having snowball fights. And the possibility of snow days! I loved bundling up and going out to play in the snow, especially if I could do it while I should have been in school.

When I was 10, we moved from New York to Virginia. My love of winter didn't dissipate, even though the amount of snow we received was obviously much less. I still looked forward to snow days, and I still loved to play in the fluffy white stuff.

Most adults lose their love of winter and the snow as they get older, but I didn't. We hardly ever got enough snow in Virginia to have to worry about it. Driving was easy as long as you were careful, I didn't own a snow shovel, and shoot - I hardly ever even remembered to wear a coat. Who needs one, when you go from a heated house to a heated work place, and it's in the 50s anyway?

But then something happened - I moved back north. I returned to New York, and it didn't take long for my opinion on winter and the snow it brought to change.

I was still loving it when the first snow fell. I was working in the drive-thru of a bank, and I remember getting so excited for the first snow fall! It was magical, mystical, beautiful!

Cut to 15 years later. I've driven in white out conditions that made me hold my breath and clench my fists on the wheel until I managed to get home. I've shoveled more snow than I or my back and arm muscles care to think about. I've gone off the road when I hit a snowy road that hadn't been plowed yet.

The fun is gone.

Now, my favorite season is spring, because it means not only the rebirth of nature, complete with flowers and singing birds, but also because it means the END OF WINTER. The arrival of spring means I have survived one more year of snow and wind and cold and horribleness.

I tried half-heartedly this year to make winter fun again. J and I had a snowball/wrestling fight in the snow, which was fun. I had planned on going out and making a snowman someday. But when the snow was right (it has to pack well), I never wanted to do it. Why go out and mess around in the cold, wet snow, when I have a warm house to sit in?

If I ever move back south, maybe I'll regain my love of winter. But I don't think so. I think my hatred of snow will prevail for the rest of my life.

I hate winter. Bring on the spring.