I was recently asked to write something for a family publication that will be compiled and left behind for future generations. I was asked to answer the following question, “Do you prefer winter or summer?” I had planned to write something else today but felt the Lord wanted me to share my answer about seasons. Here is my answer to that question.

Between the two – summer is my favorite season, especially the transition between spring and summer. The fields and hills around our home are the greenest then and the flowers are blooming.

I have always had an affinity for that time of year. It speaks of new life. I don’t like late summer. It reminds me of the “Back-to-School” ads at that time of year that were depressing to a kid like me who never wanted summer to end. 

For most of my life the fall season, while beautiful in so many ways, was a harbinger of the approaching death of winter.  Perhaps I had that feeling because, in my 40s, I began to realize I was getting older and the last remnants of my life’s summer season reminded me that my winter was approaching. As I have grown older, I have become more appreciative of all the seasons. Each season serves a purpose for our lives.

If I was to be frozen in a season and a place, it would be late spring in southern Oregon. It reminds me of my youth roaming the orchards and hillsides of what was then the old Santa Clara Valley of California long before it became Silicon Valley. It was a season in my life when everything was fresh, free, and fully in bloom.