Transition Season3 min read

I say my favorite season is fall, but more accurately my favorite season is the transition between summer and fall. As far as I know, there isn’t really a name for it, probably because it isn’t actually a “season” to begin with. But my adoration for it has magnified it into a full fledged one, the same way I’ll never concede Pluto to be a “dwarf planet.”

It’s a brief period of time, a blip on the calendar, but I think it is absolute magic. The temperature range is perfect, dipping to the 50s and peaking in the mid-80s. There will be days of rain and lightening, followed by a surprise bonus day of summer heat. I love the unpredictability, the adventure of not knowing what to expect. It has a way of waking me up to seize whatever the day holds, something I often forget in the middle of the stability of summer’s sun and fall’s bitter wind. I find the anticipation of what’s to come to be thrilling and saying goodbye to what’s been to be cathartic.

I don’t think many others enjoy the transition as much as I do. Summer lovers are grieving, fall lovers are chomping at the bit for the consistent chill in the air. Then there’s the whole mess of never being dressed appropriately— shorts on a rainy day, sweaters on a sunny one. The inconsistency makes planning difficult, I’ll give you that. 

But I welcome transition with a giant bear hug.

Well, when we’re talking about physical seasons.

Transition in life’s seasons? Not so much.

The unpredictability I crave in the weather, I find really uncomfortable in my life. I want to know what is expected of me and what I can expect in return. I find anticipation to be itchy, saying goodbye to be unsettling. Let’s just stay put or jump into the next thing already! The space between? I’ll just skip it, please!

But transition is oh so unavoidable. Life is made up of seasons connected by transition. Seasons end, new ones begin, and there will always be a space between. Whether it’s a long or short distance, travel is required to get from point A to point B. If we ignore the in-between space, we are ignoring a significant chunk of our journey. The transition will always be there and we get to decide if we will dread it or embrace it.

I say my favorite season is fall, but my favorite season is the transition. I love watching the dance between them, the grace in which summer slowly relinquishes the lead to fall in the middle of their twirls. It’s breathtaking, really. And I think there’s beauty in our own transitions if we allow there to be, if we decide to take part in the dance instead of being a judge on the sidelines critiquing how strange it is to pass the lead in the middle of a routine.

I’ll stop my dance metaphor before you catch on that I know little to nothing about dancing. My point is, if transition is inevitable, let’s choose to embrace it instead of ignore it. 

We can still be intentional in the in-between, even if we don’t know what to expect. We can use the time to prepare for what is to come and to say goodbye to what has been. And a little friendly advice? Just grab a jacket in case you accidentally decide to wear a dress on a day of a rainstorm. 

Laugh at the unpredictability and absurdity of the season of transition and welcome it with a giant bear hug.