Dates //free\\ — Seasons Start And End

So here’s the deeper truth: Seasons aren’t events—they are rhythms. And rhythms have transitions. The space between winter and spring is just as real as both of them. That gray, muddy, unsure week when it’s not quite cold and not quite warm? That’s not a glitch. That’s the season changing its clothes.

We mark seasons on calendars—March 20, June 21, September 22, December 21. Equinoxes and solstices, precise to the minute. Spring begins. Summer ends. Neat. Tidy. Predictable.

Maybe that’s why we feel off when we try to live by strict dates. We think: It’s spring now, I should feel new. It’s December, I should be merry. It’s October, I should be cozy and wise. seasons start and end dates

Because the calendar doesn’t decide when you turn a page. You do. And sometimes the most honest thing you can say is: I don’t know what season this is. But I’m here in it.

Let yourself live in the in-between. The day the snow melts but the trees are still bare. The first humid morning before the solstice. That one perfect October afternoon that feels like a memory before it ends. So here’s the deeper truth: Seasons aren’t events—they

But seasons don’t really start or end that way.

But inner seasons don’t obey the calendar either. Sometimes we’re still grieving in June. Sometimes we bloom in November. Sometimes we need to hibernate in April. That gray, muddy, unsure week when it’s not

Spring never arrives on a Tuesday. It sneaks in through a single warm afternoon in late February, the smell of wet soil, a robin that came back too early. Summer lingers long past the equinox—in golden hour light, in the sound of crickets stubbornly singing through September. Autumn’s first red leaf often falls while summer still has legal custody of the sky. And winter? It doesn't wait for the solstice. It arrives with the first frost that cracks the puddles before Thanksgiving.