Maybe that’s why we feel off when we try to live by strict dates. We think: It’s spring now, I should feel new. It’s December, I should be merry. It’s October, I should be cozy and wise.
Because the calendar doesn’t decide when you turn a page. You do. And sometimes the most honest thing you can say is: I don’t know what season this is. But I’m here in it. seasons start and end dates
We mark seasons on calendars—March 20, June 21, September 22, December 21. Equinoxes and solstices, precise to the minute. Spring begins. Summer ends. Neat. Tidy. Predictable. Maybe that’s why we feel off when we
The truth is: seasons overlap. They bleed into each other like watercolors. One season’s end is always a slow unraveling, not a door slamming shut. It’s October, I should be cozy and wise