changes of the seasons + how it relates to mood!
WINTER, her birth season, is a season of death. Trees, grass, little insects all cough up and die, leaving behind carcasses of themselves. The leaves? They are hidden somewhere under ice and snow. The world seems barren and empty, but in Shoshanna’s eyes it is the season of great rebirth. For death is nothing but rebirth. Death is the soul of an old woman switching to a younger body, stronger and with great wisdom. Death is a the passing of torches, of words, of love. The earth slips on it’s great white coat, cold and unfeeling, knowing that all this death will come to some great payoff. In this season, when life slows to a crawl and everything is taking it’s last breath, she feels her brightest for she knows that
SPRING is just around the corner with it’s bright colors and buzzing bees. Her dealings are in the afterlife and in what comes after the searing light. Yes, she is soaked in death and could probably burn with all of it, but birth! The next great adventure! The budding flowers, the constant rain. It’s as if the earth is taking one deep breath, shaking her limbs free from winter’s rigor mortis. Stiff bones are stretched. Tired eyes are made bright at the sight of children laughing and playing and ! Ah, life is so divine, and spring fills her with such an ELECTRICITY. The kind of electricity that
SUMMER saps away because summer is all heat and panting and hot. True, she does get to see a lot of lady flesh ( she’s all about lady flesh ) but it’s too much! Summer has too much life and everything is so fast and pacing. Summer, for her, midlife. Summer is settling into a job, looking at green leaves and thinking about vacations. Summer is taxes and the little headaches of being an adult. Summer is pools that are too cold and sand that’s unbearable because it’s turning into glass underneath your feet. But yes, beyond summer is
AUTUMN. Oh, how she adores autumn. What an unoffensive season. Mother Nature’s breathing slows, taking in smells of pumpkin and baking. She watches as children trick-or-treat, and as families gather together for Thanksgiving. She shakes the green from her hair, matured by not old just yet. Shoshanna can compare autumn to an almost religious peace. It doesn’t give her winter’s serenity, but there is something warmer there in those crevices for family and praying and constant cooking.
