Coming or Going?

You know that disorienting feeling when you are sitting on a train and it starts to move, then you realize that the other train has left the station and you haven't moved at all?  I experienced a familiar sensation today.  It effects me frequently but I've never given it the reflection it deserves. 

Whether I lived in the Northeast of the US or in the constant dark rain of the West of Ireland,  I always knew the season.  Summer hot. Autumn  lovely.  Winter cold.  Spring lovely.   I have lived in Charleston, S.C. for many  years.  By far a more pleasant climate than NY or Connemara.  

However, in Charleston, I often experience what I call seasonal disorientation.  It usually occurs when I am out of doors, walking my dog or riding.   Today I had a severe case of this particular confusion.  It was a cool and lovely day.  It was pleasantly windy and leaves were flying everywhere.  The horse was snorting, we were both quite happy, an exquisite New York autumn day. 

In reality it was an exquisite Charleston spring day.  Here in the South, we have (or had) an abundance of wonderful trees called Live Oaks.  Called so because they are green year round. They shed their leaves twice a year.  They have two autumns and two springs.  One knows if  it's spring only if one pays attention.  Still one may puzzle are these the summer leaves coming or the autumn leaves coming?  Two autumns, two springs?  No, well,  yes if your measure of autumn is falling leaves and spring new leaves.  Fortunately, to narrow it down one has other indicators, all stunning;  the azaleas in colorful bloom, many trees budding forth with tiny spring - green promises and more bird song than bad teeth at Wimbledon.   All proclaim, a happy corroboration that yes, it is spring!

In addition to the autumnal flow of leaves, the crispy crunchy spring - fall.  There is another strange symptom.  In northern climes we dread winter, the unbearable cold, snow, salt on the roads, never ending grey skies and dirty sludge.  In Charleston we dread summer.  The unbearable heat, insects, hurricanes, deadly snakes, alligators and Spoletto.  So some of us who suffer depression may find they have to fight the good fight and then fight it again.  

But the South makes it up to us.   Her marshes turn into lush waving eco-systems, a color all their own.  The sultry evenings, the smells of more varieties of flowers than all the bagels in New York.

This morning my dog and I walked by a gaggle of Canadian Geese.  They are so astonishing.  I forget how big and clean they are.  Growing up in New York they were often permanent residents.  They somehow looked a bit dirty or shabby.  Today's geese were glorious, clean and all business, miles to go... before it's summer well, hmm, that is if I am able to convince myself that they are heading north, then I will rejoice and welcome spring in all her confusing glory. Did I say spring?  Wait, summer or winter?  Rejoice or dread?  Coming or going?

Ah feck it,  it's a beautiful day.