I’ve heard it said that central Florida has two seasons: “Why do we live here?” and “Why doesn’t everybody live here??”
As I sit outside on my porch today with my windows open, I don’t have to tell you which season we’re currently enjoying. I’m sorry to brag to my frozen northern loves, but this is exactly why we endure the perpetual traffic and long months of indescribable humidity.
It’s sunny and 68 degrees right now in Orlando, people.
Florida actually does get all four seasons, though. You just have to throw out your calendar, use your imagination, and appreciate them for what they are, whenever they may come.
Just be ready, because if you blink, you’ll miss an entire season.
In a nutshell, Florida’s spring seasons are dry and sunny, usually running from mid November straight through to mid April with just a few days of winter chill randomly forcing us out of our flip flops and into our jeans fashionably tucked into leather boots.
Honestly, the rest of the year is pretty much summer. Slip back into your flip flops, and don’t forget your umbrella. This is when we get almost all of our rain for the year.
There is, though, a brief, random tickle of a moment each year when autumn will inevitably show up. Apparently this year it’s happening smack-dab in the middle of January. On a Wednesday.
I could smell it in the air this morning as I went outside.
I smiled as I looked at the ruby maple leaves that had fallen on my herb garden overnight. I could smell their damp scent mixed with the thyme. What a lovely scent. What a lovely moment.
I needed this slice of lovely today. It lifted me through a morning of weary stiffness and discouraging pain. So many things I wanted to do today. Yet my reality begs to differ. Not today, it whines. Not today.
Still though, through my disappointment, that lovely moment carries me. What a strange day for autumn to show up, yet I’m so thankful I saw it when it did.
Because no matter how infuriatingly random my Lupus “seasons” can feel to me at times, beauty is promised to rise from within them.
Today’s little autumn tickle reminded me to wait in faith for these slices of lovely – they will come, but in ways greater than I can imagine, and at times I would never think to expect them. I have to be ready, though. Because what a waste it would be should I blink and absolutely miss them.
Thanks for growing with me. ❤
“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)