A Change of Seasons

Well, we have finally moved from the “cold” season to the “warm.” Many new to the Sunshine State bemoan the fact that we have “no seasons” down here. Some have gone on to say they miss the turning of the leaves, the cold of winter, and the colors of spring.

I have heard some of our northern visitors who have come down here and inadvertently turned into Southerners say they miss the seasons. They say they like the cooler weather of the fall, the turning of the leaves, the bitter slicing cold.

I say, “Bah! Humbug!” If it is colder than 70 degree F, then it is too cold! I enjoy watching the color turn in Florida. One day it is gray and brown, the next green—and vice versa accordingly. There are very few transitional colors and I am okay with that. The only thing I am really concerned with is the color green. Like a bear in hibernation, I will come out when I can smell the grass, the woods, and see the green.

We do actually have seasons here. Between the “cold” season and the “warm,” we do have a few days in which we can keep the doors and windows open. This is a pleasant time that lasts…oh, for a week or two. This coincides with the time we set the thermostats from heat to air-conditioning.

The same thing happens in the fall, when we get a week or two between the “warm” season as we move into the “cold” season, also known as “football” season. While it is true I will occasionally venture out to watch some Florida football during the “cold” season, I find myself doing so much more infrequently the older I become.

I have also noticed that with age comes more creakiness, aches, cracking joints, and crankiness. All of which tend to make me want to stay away from the cold even more.

Last night, we watched an indie movie called, “Feed the Fish.” It was set in Wisconsin. In the winter. I could not believe humans live like that.

I have been in Wisconsin. I went there with my friend Jeff in August 1992 to Oshkosh, for the big EAA Convention. What a great trip, except for a couple of things.

We landed in one of the I-states—I don’t know, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa,…maybe it was Idaho. OK, Jeff was flying and I was navigating… Anyway, we got out of the 170 and went into the FBO and I saw a sign hanging on the wall I have never seen before: “Pre-heats! $17 per engine!”

I looked at Jeff and asked, “What’s a pre-heat?” He just looked at me with his quiet and knowing smile, ever so slightly shaking his head back and forth.

The other thing I saw that kind of bothered me, and it was something I have never, ever before seen in my life and hope never to see again—was my breath freezing in front of my mouth. In the month of August.

There was something just so wrong about that.

I knew then and there I could never live this far north. Not only was it cold, that variation thing was really whacky. You actually had to subtract it from your nav problems or you would actually get lost! Or was it add—let’s see, it was east is least and west was best… Or something like that. I kept telling Jeff which way to fly based on my best math.

Maybe that east is least thing explains how we accidently ended up in New Mexico on the way back to Florida.


© 2011 J. Clark

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2 Responses to A Change of Seasons

  1. Ardis says:

    “I have also noticed that with age comes more creakiness, aches, cracking joints, and crankiness.”

    Soooo true. I can vouch for your crankiness.

  2. flyinggma says:

    This change of seasons suits me just fine. Leaving 15+ inches of fresh snow for warm sandy beaches…Priceless! Ardis was right, I’m spoiled and will have a hard time returning to the Minnesota winters. Jeanne

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