The Change Of Seasons

Lately we’ve seen quite a fluctuation in the weather. One day it is sunny and in the 60’s, the next 10 degrees with snow, sleet and freezing rain, all in the same day. A favorite saying here in the south is all you have to do I wait and the weather will change.

One of the things I tried to incorporate into The Little People while I was writing it, were the changes in the seasons and the weather. Growing up in the south, we were use to extreme changes. The seasons also tied nicely into events such as holidays, school events, birthdays and more.

At the beginning of the story, it is summer. Summers were always a great time for me as a child. Right after my family moved to the south, the time I spent with my grandparents up in the mountains on the river during the summers are some of my fondest memories. Even though the summers were hot and humid, the things a child could do far outweighed the heat. Other than the occasional storm with a chance of tornadoes, summers weren’t bad.

There was always an adventure to be had, some place to explore, and something new to learn. My grandfather taught me how to fish. My grandmother taught me how to cook. There was nothing better than sitting in a lawn chair down on the riverbank with a pole and a line in the water.

Exploring the woods was a favorite pastime. Seeing wild animals in nature was always exciting fun. Of course the insects were never welcome. Mosquitoes, chiggers and ticks were not any fun.

Summer always ended too soon. When school started and fall came around it was always back to business. Of course then there was always winter break to look forward to. We were always happy to get a snow day. Funny how as children we had no idea how stressful and dangerous the snow and ice could be. We were just happy to be out of school.

I could never think of winter and not think about the holidays. The three biggies were Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Halloween was always cool outside and by Thanksgiving we were getting a lots of rain. By Christmas we were hoping for a little snow. Very seldom did we ever actually seem to get any.

We always knew when Thanksgiving was getting close because my father and older brother would begin practicing their duck calls. That’s all we heard around the house for a month up until duck season. It was worth putting up with the noise to get to taste my grandmother’s duck and dressing however. It was always one of my favorites at that time of year.

I think for most of us, the seasons always bring back memories that connect us to important times in our lives. 

Michael Howard