Out of step, out of sorts, out of season

"Nature Laughs Last" by Eva the Weaver, used with permission, cc license

I sometimes wonder if I would be better off living somewhere on the equator. As much as I love the change of seasons, having spent my whole life in the northeast, I struggle with the constant transitions. Change, endings, and beginnings are all difficult for me.

It seems as if the big seasonal shifts disorient me. (Not to mention the time changes twice a year. Yes, I know it's only an hour.) Now that it's summer and my sons are out of school, I have an additional transition from having predictable stretches of alone time to a more chaotic house with an anti-schedule.

My favorite time of the year is deep winter. It provides a stillness and peace that soothes my restlessness. If I were a bear, I would look forward to hibernation. Not that I want to pull the covers over my head and sleep the winter away, I just crave the simplicity.

Spring and summer are seasons that crawl under my skin. They are the wild profusion of an untended garden, gone to weed and seed. The itch in the exact center of my spine I can't reach to scratch.

I wonder if this summer feels so much more chaotic because we didn't have a proper winter to reset my internal clock. There are certain plants that will not thrive come summer because they weren't allowed to go dormant in the winter.

I am out of step with the season. Cranky and irritable, as if I had cabin fever, only in reverse. 

Don't mind me. I'll be fine once winter sets in again.