A First Year of Seasons

Whenever I thought about moving to Montana, one of the things I looked forward to was to see the cycle of all the seasons in their turn here.

I have always enjoyed the seasons of life: the anticipation of the first snow, or warm sun on bare skin, the stages of a child's growing...all those things that bring the thrill of anticipation at the same time as the comfort of having some idea of what to expect.

I've anticipated what living here would mean for me. When do the leaves fall? When do you see the robins building their nests (and crapping all over my porch railing)? When is the right time to start planting, when do you first need to have a fire at night? In our little central Arizona mountain town, we customarily had our first fire of the year on Halloween, so the house smelled of that weird first-fire smell, plus the aroma of roasting pumpkin seeds, underscored by peanut butter cup breath.

I have also been waiting anxiously to see my first fawn of the year. Yesterday, I DID!


This first year in a completely new place is a little bit like a honeymoon phase. There are still a lot of unknowns, still a lot of quirks to be discovered. I expect it will also be like the early years of a marriage in that we will need to learn not to apply expectations to our new home, based on our past relationships. My loved ones in Arizona are about half cooked right now, but I've only had the chance to wear shorts a few times. It's getting close to July and I thought I'd have a tan by now. Montana had other plans. 

And so it is that I am on a honeymoon with my new home. That little dappled bundle of adorableness yesterday reminds me that the whole experience is fresh and new....just like he is.
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