Summer, in Eastern Canada, has a sense of urgency to it. You have to squeeze every ounce of enjoyment out of every sunny day.
Because it’s short. And winter is long.
We live by the ocean. Our “really hot” days are a balmy 80 F (28oC). Hotter is rare and short lived.
You blink and summer is over.
And our family just had our first real Canadian summer in a very long time.
I’ve felt like a bystander the last few years, watching my neighbors throw gear into the tent trailer, and come home with fresh fish and sunburns. Between work demands, two pregnancies, and relocating to or from overseas multiple times, a day at the beach became a big accomplishment.
Lofty goals like camping and hiking have been elusive.
But, baby! Did we catch up this year!
- Summer camp.
- Getaways with grandparents.
- Beach days with cousins.
- Hiking and swimming.
- A huge family reunion.
We did it all!
By August’s end, I was anxious to settle into the routines of fall.
Which presented a problem, because a week later, we landed in our new home just on time to catch the first buds of spring. Welcome to the Southern Hemisphere. Welcome to Spring.
Down here, December kicks off the summer holidays.
College students are finishing exams. Dance classes are performing year-end recitals. The town is gearing up for the summer tourist season. The AC is getting a workout.
Everyone is in springtime mode. Except me.
If there is one thing I don’t need, it is another summer! I want fall, with its vibrant foliage, apple picking, pumpkin pies, lattes, and structure. I am longing for that productive energy and the routines that come with the kickoff of the school year.
For everything, there is a season and mixing up your seasons, year after year, is disorienting.
I struggle to uphold routines that are of my own making, but I NEED routines. I need this sense of season. And so, we are homeschooling this year, and creating a fall kickoff that feels at odds with the world outside our front door.
While we dodged a bullet by missing winter 2014-15 back home, the seasons do lend a rhythm that is really hard to create on my own. And so, even as we adapt our daily schedules to accommodate the afternoon heat, I’m still pretending it’s fall and trying to adhere to fall-like work and school routines.
The rhythm of the seasons really is a gift.
Even if that truth won’t make the snow any lighter as you head out to shovel this morning. Sorry about that.
“He has made everything beautiful in its time.”-Ecclesiastes 3:11