Every Fall is a New Beginning

I grew up and now live where there is no mistaking the changing of the seasons.  I have once lived where seasons run together and realized afterwards that something big had been missing.  I am physically programmed to sense the passage of time by the changing of the seasons, the feeling of weather changing is so visceral to me, it affects every part of me.
Winter and Summer are the Big Ones.  The longest seasons, the ones that are most extreme.  Winter is bitter, long, and dark.  The mind goes into hibernation mode, but every once and a while is interrupted by a day of sun and sparkling fresh snow.  Summer is beautiful, but hot.  You spend a month feeling sticky and lethargic.  You feel like you should be doing something BIG and Take Advantage of Summer.  But you don't and feel kind of guilty about it, even the things that you do don't measure up to the definition of summer in your mind, which was formed when you were a child and it seemed like endless days of freedom and exploration stretched in front of you.  It will never again be like that and it makes you sad.  You no longer have friends that are willing to stretch out on the grass for an hour and feel funny doing it alone.
But fall and spring, these are the transitional seasons.  The short ones, that no one really thinks about.  The glory of summer and the agony of winter eclipse the sweet fleeting days of autumn and spring.  To many people autumn and spring are merely seen as a stepping stone to something else, something big.  This is understandable, but for me these seasons mean change, from snow to grass, from hot to cool, from green to red, from dead to alive.  It touches a place in me that craves change, and for things to be interesting and varied.  It also makes me want to change, to make things better, to go along with Mother Nature for the ride.