Monday Musings on This ‘N That
Folks in the South love their collegiate football, marching band, and cheerleaders. When the college football games begin in the South you know autumn’s around the corner. All other sports in the South are secondary to football, but there are other sports; and they almost always indicate the season.
Basketball, with a small overlap of football, follows and then we know we’re closing in on winter. Then, again, with a tiny overlap in time, baseball follows and we know spring is around the corner. That’s when spring sports blossom: tennis, track, soccer.
I attended a private university near the Mason-Dickson line that didn’t have football. We only had basketball, baseball, tennis, and fencing. We didn’t need all the sports to help us know which season we were having or which one was nearing.
Our barometer for telling the seasons was the locale. Surrounded by majestic mountains, we only had to check the trees and know what part of the year we were in. The tree leaves changed colors like clockwork. When they began to change from green to varied electric hues of red, gold, and orange, that told us about autumn. And when the deep snows came, we definitely knew it was winter and always hoped classes would be suspended.
Each year in late September when I traveled to college I took woolen clothes, jackets, gloves, and scarves. Most likely I carried my winter coat because when I arrived at school the temperature change required my wearing a coat.
I love most sports and have cheered on children and grandchildren in many of them. But remembrances of my time as a college student bring pleasant thoughts of authentic winters, springs, summers, and autumns. And the best part of our winters were when classes were suspended because of deep snows.
As you probably know, I love the seashores. I’ve lived long enough in the South, I’m not sure my blood circulation could survive days upon days when the winter temperatures didn’t get above freezing. So I love my days and I love the remembrances of my yesterdays.
Besides the temperature what lets you know which season you’re in and which is about to be next?
“I think that I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree.”
--Alfred Joyce Kilmer, poet (1886-1918)
Till next time … keep on smiling.