Northern 'Season'ings

by G. E. Shuman

I dislike winter. I was happy to see it go this year. I was happy to see it go last year. I was happy to see it go the year before that. I presume that this makes me less than a 'true' Vermonter. If this is the case, I'm sorry. No, I take that back. I am not sorry in the least. As I work on this column this afternoon, the sun is beating through my front window, and I cannot hear my furnace running. To me, those are very good things. As the days get warmer, here in the North, I'm sure I will truly miss the seasonal song of my snow blower blasting in my red and frozen ears. (Please don't believe that last sentence.) At this time of year I love seeing anything green. Ah, yes. GREEN! Green grass, green leaves; I simply crave green! As I stroll down the sidewalks of my neighborhood I long for the scent of freshly cut grass, even if it is accompanied by that of lawnmower exhaust fumes.

Here in the north, the seasons are strong. As with any strong spice, the seasonings here leave no doubt of their presence. There is no mistaking the change from fall to winter, as you shovel the first, and then the second snowfall from the front walk. If you have recently moved here and are not sure, check your pulse next fall, after you have, for the third time in a week, uncovered the pathway used only by your grumpy mailman. (Okay, my mailman isn't grumpy.) If your heart rate is over one hundred, you are approaching winter.

I've yet to spend a winter in the south, although that year is coming, but I am sure the change; the seasoning of the seasons, is much milder there than up here. There, I'm pretty certain, the seasons are less tangy, and less flavorful, even if they are easier to swallow. It is just as much Christmas on December 25^th in southern Florida as it is at the north pole, but white lights on an orange tree, and plastic snowmen standing in the grass just can't feel the same. What good is Frosty without frost bite? Someday, as much of a sacrifice as it will be, I will find out, and I will let you know.

Also, northern seasonings fall on the northern states whenever they are darned good and ready to do so. The timing of the changes in the seasons has very little to do with the calendar. In fact, since I have seen snow in May and seventy degree weather in January, (This is a very rare, but true occurrence.) I wonder if the calendar has anything to do with it at all.

That afternoon sun pouring through my window, and the absence of the sound of my furnace have convinced me that spring has truly, finally, come. It is a time for raking, for hosing down the driveway, and for readying the junk of winter for the first spring yard sale. I might even go to the attic and lower the Christmas star down from the peak of the house one of these warm days. (Don't tell my wife I told you that it is still up there.)

Soon, I hope, it will be summer. If global warming is really happening we may actually get one of those this year, up here, and I will be ready. In fact, I will be more than ready. If summer comes, I will prepare for the yearly seasoning by performing, quite religiously, what is officially known as the Air Conditioner Install Ritual. To accomplish this I will go, solemnly, to the cellar, and get the hammer and power screwdriver. This act will be in preparation for the seasonal adornment of our home with three big, rectangular, metal warts, protruding from three upstairs bedroom windows. But, alas, all will be cool for the duration of the warm weather.

In real, Vermont time, about fifteen minutes will seem to have passed when I return to the cellar for that hammer and driver. I will then perform the fateful act of reversing the driver, and then, of unscrewing summer from our home, in anticipation of what lies ahead.

I will admit, I do love to taste the seasonings of fall. By the time it arrives I am tired of those fifteen minutes of summer, and ready for a full outpouring of the tang of the coming season. I simply love the crisp, colored, crackling leaves, and the crisper air of autumn. (Don't you love that word, autumn? It sounds so harvesty and autumny.) Also, in deference to my Christian faith, I also love everything Halloween. Truthfully, what I love is more the seasoning of everything from the 'old' Halloweens. Ghouls and ghosts still excite me, and I will always cherish the sooty-sweet scent of the candle-lit carved pumpkins of my youth. Even today, the cool darkness of that spooky night, and the blowing, crunching leaves under the feet of candy-craving, toddling monsters at my door makes me happy.

We all know what comes on the heals of Halloween. For us, here in the north, there will be some snow, followed by some more snow, which is followed by some more snow. Then, for a change, it will snow. After that, we might get some snow.

As I said, I dislike the seasonings of winter, and was happy to see it go this year, although that does not endear me to the die-hard, ski-toting, snow machine-straddling people all around me. Today, as I search for sprigs of green in my lawn, and buds on my maple trees, I truly miss the seasonal song of my snow blower. (Please don't believe that last sentence.)

Now, enjoy the many 'season'ings of spring!