Changing Seasons, intro (1/5)

The few days between Christmas and New Year's tend to be a period of intense reflection for me, a time to come down from the joy of Advent and the Nativity and prepare for the year ahead. I find myself comparing Decembers, and the months in between them, reviewing the year, and looking for signs indicating the passage of time, beginnings and ends. Today is the tenth anniversary of my grandfather's death, and so it seems even more important to spend some time in quiet contemplation this evening.

Here in Southern California, the seasons come and go almost imperceptibly. There are no spring blossoms, or falling leaves, or snow flurries, only slight shifts in temperature and subtle variations in wardrobe. December can look quite a lot like June, and time slips by. It can be hard to keep track of the change of seasons. I am often made aware of the arrival of a new season not by any blatant symbol - no new leaves, or frost on the window - but instead by the absence of something that had grown familiar. I know that it's no longer summer because I see less flip-flops and tan lines, and winter's end is made definite by the disappearance of hot chocolate specials from the local coffee shop. I mark the seasons by the things I say goodbye to.

This year, I've said a number of goodbyes, some more significant than others. Here are a few of them, in no particular order.