I Miss Summer...

Let's get one thing straight. I hate summer.

I do. I hate it. The oppressive heat, the blinding sun, the sweating. No, thanks. I live in upstate New York, and our summers could hardly be categorized as sweltering, but I still hate them. 

I love autumn. And winter. The crispness of the air, the beautiful foliage that blankets our hillsides and distant mountaintops, the excitement of first snow, the creation of a new world over and over again as snow storms bring a fresh cover to brown trees, the austerity of the landscape that reveals pieces of the world that are invisible under the cover of thick green leaves. October. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Visits to the orchard, multiple family gatherings, visiting Santa Claus, having a big breakfast after watching my children open presents. I love the snow, the cold, having to wear fleece pajama pants and snuggle in blankets, smelling wood smoke from neighboring chimneys, filling the kitchen with warmth and fragrance from a freshly baked batch of cookies. These seasons are magical. When it gives way to the inevitable mud and mess of spring, I am saddened. 

So when I say that I miss summer, it shows just how difficult this winter has been. We come to expect a few storms of close to (or over) a foot of snow, as well as a week's worth of below freezing temperatures in January, and none of this causes any consternation. We throw a few more pellets in the stove, zip up the hooded sweatshirts, add slippers over our thick socks and hunker down for a bit. Then, the temperatures return to normal - in the 20s - for the rest of January, usually with a slow uptick in February (low to mid-30s) and then, by March, we're pretty steadily climbing into the 40s on a regular basis. 

Not this year. 

This year was unbearably cold for a painful amount of time. Weeks stretched by with temperatures barely reaching 20 degrees - or even ten degrees, for many days. The oppressive early darkness made it seem even colder, and so many evenings were spent looking longingly out the window, wishing for light at 5:00 pm. 

Now, spring has arrived, but only on the calendar. This morning's temperature was 6 degrees. 6. 

So, now, despite my usual distaste toward spring, I am anxious for green trees, green grass, green flower buds. I can't wait to be able to spend more than two minutes outside. I want to hang flowering baskets from my porch posts and plant flowers in my window boxes. I am excited to be able to release my children from the stale air of the house to the fresh, clean air of the outdoors. I am excited. I am ready. It's about time.