There are less than 15 minutes left of Friday. After two hours of trudging through online traffic school (barf. don’t get a ticket, kids.), surely I can surrender five to write?

Presenting the return of Five Minute Fridays! Five minutes. One topic. As many words as possible, unprocessed and unedited.

It’s fun! Join the party over at The Gypsy Mama (especially if you’re in a time zone where it’s still Friday). This weeks topic: When Seasons Change


Myth: There are no seasons in Florida. Yes there are. Snowbirds and Lovebugs.

Okay, so maybe there are no seasons in the traditional sense. Leaves aren’t alive with color in the fall, and snow doesn’t fall in the winter. But there are seasons if you have the eyes to look for them, the subtle shift that tells you one time has passed and another is coming.

It’s the warming gold of the light or the occasional red tree in the midst of green that says autumn is coming to turn down the lights on another year. It’s in the gradual warming of the spring, the blossoming azaleas and little birds piling their nests in secret places, or the unpredictable squirrels dashing and leaping through the trees. Maybe the calendar says the seasons change, so we will it, we look for it.

When seasons change here, it’s more of a gradual melting than anything. Today, I would swear it’s summer, even though the calendar says there’s a month of spring to go. The dense humidity and the heat that begs for a drive to the beach. Here, summer makes the most dramatic entrance of all her seasonal sisters, with sunburns and superhero movies at her side.

Even though I don’t have “summer vacation” anymore (if you have it, enjoy it), and even though fall will always have my heart and spring will always be beautiful… there’s still something about summertime that stirs the Florida girl in me.

Hello sunshine.