There are seasons in a traveller’s life, just like any human. The childhood, when you rely on others, when you are guided, willingly or not. When you discover the essentials of this beautiful world. Then you reach maturity, find your own way of doing, discover what works best for you. And as you grow old, as a traveller, not necessarily as a human, you just enjoy the little things more and more, chance your pace, and definitely your view.
But there is a seasonal way of travelling that relates less to the life of a human and more to the life in this world. Going, throughout the year, from Spring to Summer, then to Autumn and Winter. Over and over again, year in and year out. And experiencing it actually makes a lot of sense to me, nowadays.
I was born in a country with mitigated seasons, not as bad as Equatorial climates, but bad enough to have, essentially, a hot and a hotter seasons. It was only when I first moved to northern Europe that I discovered a new world, where all trees wouldn’t be evergreen and winters would bring snow.
But it has taken me ten more years to learn to adapt my life to the course of those seasons, instead to force myself through them, mopping about my lack of energy in winter, or lacking proper sleep in summer because I haven’t used all the accumulated energy.
Lately, after reading a beautiful text from Kurt Vonnegut, I’ve gone a step further, and now I try to instil six seasons into my life:
“One sort of optional thing you might do (in Upstate) is to realize that there are six seasons instead of four. The poetry of four seasons is all wrong for this part of the planet, and this may explain why we are so depressed so much of the time. I mean, spring doesn’t feel like spring a lot of the time, and November is all wrong for autumn, and so on.
Here is the truth about the seasons: Spring is May and June. What could be springier than May and June? Summer is July and August. Really hot, right? Autumn is September and October. See the pumpkins? Smell those burning leaves? Next comes the season called Locking. November and December aren’t winter. They’re Locking. Next comes winter, January and February. Boy! Are they ever cold!
What comes next? Not spring. ‘Unlocking’ comes next. What else could cruel March and only slightly less cruel April be? March and April are not spring. They’re Unlocking.”
As winter makes its way, snow, ice and water make us walk slower, take more notice of our surroundings, I look forward to the unlocking of the world and of my travels. What about you?