It is not yet summer, but I have been using the air conditioner quite often these days anyway. I really can't tolerate any level of heat. It hinders my ability to breathe well, and just puts me in a bad mood. If I am able to swim in a pool or ocean, then I do not mind it so much, and can even enjoy laying out in the sun, if I know that kind of refreshing relief is nearby. But, generally speaking, I hate the summertime.
The other seasons are wonderful; each in their own way.
There is that welcome relief of autumn, when the weather beckons you to put on a jacket or sweatshirt. The air is dry and crisp, and there is that lovely display of colorful trees, and dried leaves crunching under your footsteps.
Winter is most spectacular with its howling winds, and flurries of snow. A fierce blizzard can keep you holed up inside, but there is nothing like the peaceful silence of an insulating snowfall.
Spring is welcoming with its newly blossomed crocus, and the sprouting of pale green buds on the trees.
I enjoy living in a place where all four seasons are available to me. Enjoying three out of the four of them isn't too bad.
Despite my dislike of summer, I have probably had some of my best times during that season, since it is typically vacation time.
Hiking in the mountains of Cuyamaca (in San Diego), or camping out in upstate New York. Going cross country with Tree and Melis, and enjoying oh so many beach days in my youth.
I went to Finland (Lapland) during the spring/summer, and experienced sunlight virtually all day and night during that time. Wish I could've experienced it during the dark days of winter, though.
I was just looking at some pictures I took this past winter, after a snowfall. Those days cannot come soon enough, if you ask me.
I have hardly been outside at all this year, especially since April when my breathing became so bad, and body pain increased. It's a good thing I'm such a home body type, or I'd surely be going stir crazy by now. I would like to take a nice walk, but just going from one room to another can render me short of breath. I have to be careful of that, lest I use up my rescue inhaler before I can get another.
When Melissa was little I would often sing the song, Summertime, to her, in a sort of operatic voice that would just crack her up. Great song.
