It's been a bit cold lately, particularly noticed first thing in the morning with icy windscreens and footpath. I feel myself pulling out my gloves from my bag as I make my own to the train station. I don't mind it really. It makes me feel alive. It gives me a topic of conversation with people at work. Even strangers on my journey to work seem to bond together. Suffering extremes of weather helps you feel more connected to each other I guess. Acknowledging the struggle, noticing the extra effort it takes on these mornings to do what we normally do without too much thought.
Despite this cold weather it's fascinated me to see the leaves of trees showing autumn like colors during winter. There's certainly something unusual going on with our seasons. Climate change in action I guess. No clear lines drawn anymore between the seasons. You can't just determine the season by the way things look. It's like the trees are delighted though. Their colorful leaves bright and almost sparkling against the backdrop of the green grass and river. Their reflections can just be noticed, almost invisible. As if they shouldn't really be there. The river knows these things.
I wonder if one day the seasons really won't mean much. Will we no longer teach our children about the seasons? Will the idea of getting through the dark and difficult months of winter to then be embraced by the sunshine and increasing warmth of spring start to lack meaning? Will it become something that happened in the olden days? Will we have colorful trees all year around - whenever they decide to show their colors? Would this make for an easier life where seasons blend together? Or do we need the rhythm of seasons as they change, reminding us of the flow of life?