It's been a while since I've written, or even thought much, about "seasonality" - the lightbulb revelation that first led me to put pen to paper. However, when I was trimming all the spent blooms from my two lavender plants the other day, it kinda punched me in the gut.

I was feeling really sad, for I got so caught up in other things this summer (like reunions, and people moving then being laid off) that I never got around to doing anything with the blooms, and now it was too late. Then I found myself thinking "But just you wait! Next year I will be better prepared, and there will be lavender lemonade, lavender creme brule, and lavender buds dried and stored for baking!" The anticipation of it all had me feeling downright giddy, and that's when it came to me. This is what seasonality is all about - enjoying these tiny things for all they are worth, during the brief period when they are at their peak, then giving ourselves up to the ever-mounting thrill of anticipation for the rest of the year. This is the spice that makes living the good life so delectable.

Have you ever known a kid who gets fixated on a single food, and that's all they ever want to eat, for months on end? Then suddenly, out of the blue, they decide they don't like it anymore? I think we are all a bit like that when we can have anything we want, anytime we want it. After a while, none of it seems to taste especially good anymore.

Now picture the child who has been raised with seasonality: the child who crawled around in the strawberry patch as a toddler, popping ripe fruit into mouth with chubby hands; who knows that when Mom announces that the lavender is about to bloom, that means icy pitchers filled with yummy lemonade; who knows that when the fruit on that tree in the yard turns a certain color, that means peach cobbler for dessert, and the whir of the ice cream freezer; whose family dances around the kitchen in glee when a neighbor calls to report a sighting of morel mushrooms. Do you think this child will be a picky eater, bored with everything his mother sets in front of him? Would not this ability to savor such small things when they are available, and enjoy the thrill of anticipation and delayed gratification, spill over into other areas of their life as well?

All I can tell you for sure is that the moment captured in the photo above? The one when I had just discovered my very first morel mushroom? Well, there is only one way to describe the way it made me feel. Or. Gas. Mic!
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Reviewed by juragan asem
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Rating : 4.5