Two years ago, a friend and I were talking about the pros and cons of living on Curaçao. She was born and raised in Spain but lived in Ireland for a long time. We both agreed that we loved the warm weather, but we both missed having real seasons. After that talk I started to take a closer look at the cycles of nature on the island and I noticed that we do have seasons there. They’re just not as obvious and they feel opposite of the seasons in the north. Since summertime in the tropics is when it’s really hot, trees are bare and there aren’t many flowers in summer. Even the birds tend to be more quiet and hidden. In winter nature comes back to live again.
We have been in The Netherlands since April (though we went back for five days to take care of some things because we left in a hurry). I have seen the trees go from mostly bare to lush and green. I’ve seen the evergreens go from winter green to summer green (there’s a difference, I never really noticed that before).
I’ve also welcomed the arrival of warmer weather though I still feel cold most of the time. It’s hilarious to compare my cloths (sweaters, cardigans, leggings) to what everyone else is wearing (t-shirts, shorts, dresses). I really, really try to get used to colder temperatures again, but it’s not going so well. I’ve lived here for almost half a century. How can four years in the tropics change so much in my body system? It’s just weird.
Anyway. Seasons. “Real” seasons. T. thinks they’re overrated. He loves the tropics. Me? I’m not sure anymore.
But I am celebrating the arrival summer today, by noticing the green leaves and beautiful flowers, by trying to soak up the warmer weather and enjoying the sunlight on these long, long days.
(We also have shorter and longer days on Curaçao, but there’s only 85 minutes difference between the shortest and the longest day. In the Netherlands the difference is 9 hours 7 minutes).
The wheel is turning, no matter where I am. And that’s actually a comforting thought.
