Seasons

My life has never before revolved around the seasons.  

I liked them.  I was for them.  But they didn't really impact my life that much.  Sure, I had winter clothes and summer clothes.  But does having to wear a jacket a few months out of the year really change how you do life?

I suddenly realized that in Italy, how we do life literally changes with the changing of the seasons.  Winter is more than just wearing a coat to keep warm on the short walk between the car the grocery store.  It's finding a coat heavy enough to keep you warm as you walk 30 minutes to go get your groceries.  It's finding a hat that doesn't scare off my kids, because ears CAN get too cold to feel--and that's bad.  It's also finding the delicate balance between wearing layers for warmth and yet not so many that when you put on your coat you feel like a stuffed sausage.

Between November and April, by law you have to change the tires on your car to be snow tires or make sure you have chains in the trunk at all times.  And you can't drive on Thursdays at all--an effort to decrease pollution in the city.

In the winter, we find every possible active thing that can be done in 1200sq/ft of space without disturbing our neighbors.  We always carry an umbrella and constantly have wet toes.  Scarf are not used to add that little bit of extra "flair" to your outfit.  They genuinely provide necessary warmth for the exposed flesh between a coat and a hat.

And then the Spring comes!  Our neighborhood again becomes decorated with greens and pinks and yellows.  It's amazing how much more you want to smile when you see green than when you see barren tree limbs!  Of course, all of that new growth also brings lots and lots of pollen.  

No, that's not snow.

Spring brings opening the windows to get the air moving.  It then means sweeping said pollen out from under EVERYTHING.  It means gelato and afternoon trips to the park.  There is an odd sense of freedom and nakedness in walking out of the front door without four layers on.

Our meals begin to change too.  We don't need the soups and heavy pastas anymore.  Tomatoes come into season, and it's hard to figure out ways to consume as many of them as you'd like.  Our oven begins to heat our apartment a little too much, so we have to eat with window/doors open.  It's vaguely like eating outside. 

That also means we bring out our bug-zappers.  In every room we have a device that plugs into an electric outlet.  It emits a high-pitched (almost unaudible) sound that is suppose to drive away the Tiger Mosquitos that plague the area.  For those who aren't deterred by the lovely sound, we have a tennis-racket shaped thing that when you push a button and swing, electrically zaps whatever it comes into contact with.

And when summer fully arrives, the oven can no longer be used.  Meals are almost entirely cold.  Laundry is hung, exclusively, because it's too hot to run the dryer.  Every member of the family has his/her own fan pointed on them when they go to sleep at night.  We all hang out in the living room, as that's the only place our portable air conditioner will work.  Our apartment becomes a cave because keeping our tapperellas (heavy, metal, external "shades" on every window) closed is a necessity for keeping the temperature in our apartment as cool as can be attained.

We take random trips to IKEA and the mall, just to walk around in some air conditioning for a while.  Gelato is no longer a special treat--it is a necessity to provide some relief from the heat.

When Fall arrives, there is an audible exhale, as the oppressive heat begins to fade.  All that spring brought happens in reverse.

There are times this slavery to the seasons steals my joy.  But there is another kind of joy--a relief--that comes with each changing season.  We did it.  We survived.  God's creation is changing, and it's incredible.  This week my joy is full!  The purples!  The yellows!  The lush, deep green!  My open window provides a sweet coolness.  My heart is thankful for God's grace to recognize the little gifts He has painted all around me.