Seasons

[caraig]

Seasons have their own scent, or maybe its better to say they have their own characteristic feelings for me. It's more than just temperature. The air in winter is chilly, crisp and sharp and nipping, as the cold air dances through your nose. Summer is hot, thick and deep with humidity as it clings to you and wraps cloying dampness around you. Autumn is probably my favorite; the air is beginning to snap at you, and winds become a touch hungrier as they prowl through the branches of leaf-shedding trees. It's getting chillier, not enough to break out the thick coats but enough to make you hunch down in your jacket when a particularly sharp breeze cuts through your clothing.

And then there's spring. There's a certain freshness in the air -- besides the pollen -- that tingles and twitches, something that dances through the grass whispering, "Life! Life!" A clean, warm scent even when the air is still cold. Even with the windows closed, there's a draft somewhere and a touch of that fey air winds it's way sinuously through the house teasingly.

I don't like spring. I never really have, less so this year, but it's never been a season I've been fond of. Maybe that's just my melancholia kicking in, the Shadow demanding attention. Or maybe I just don't like the seasons changing at all, something in their change always makes me grumbly and moody. But I know I never really liked spring in particular. Despite the freshness of the air, despite the storms that come (which I adore,) despite the traditions of renewal and rebirth.

Or maybe I'm just bloody tired and should get some sleep. Pax.

Comments

[tigerfae.livejournal.com]

I'm not fond of spring, myself. Anything that smells damp and requires extra work to clean up after is not such a great thing, imho. But I suppose I can't complain too much because I thrive on sunlight and we are finally getting some!

=)