Smatterings of Seasons

I admit it - I miss snow. I lived over 18 years of my life, perfectly content with my perpetually non-white Christmases, never knowing the squeaky crunch under thick boots, thinking that winter was signaled by the crisp bite in the air and the sight of houses lit in twinkling lights. I suppose winter still is that bite and twinkle to me, but after living most of 4 years in Iowa, I find that my opinion of winter here is not the same. I loved the perfect lines of snow on railings, the glistening white expanses of fresh powder on grass... Maybe it's the fact that I did live 18 years without experiencing this that made snow so whimsical and fascinating to me. It's beautiful and intriguing and magical, because I am seeing it through new eyes - like how a child sees the world.

I miss autumn too. The fall in California is dull and uninteresting. Yes, the weather is occasionally gorgeous, and jacket weather doesn't begin until well into November or early December. But there are no bright splashes of colored leaves on sidewalks, no mounds of pink and orange and yellow and purple. The trees do not look golden or rosey. They are simply green, on their way to a grayish brown. I guess that's the price we pay for sunny, blue-skied days.

Yet, sometimes when I was in Iowa during cold November afternoons, I missed the bright blue sky and the chirping of birds other than crows. Because even though the ground glistened, the sky there was gray and lifeless. Swarms of crows may be fascinating, but they certainly don't bring cheer.

There are things I miss about Iowa, especially during this time of year. I loved it there. But a part of me loves California too. So even though the grass is definitely greener on this side, the other side is covered with crisp white snow.