Green, brown, and white is one way to describe the different times of the year in Anchorage. Or light and dark. Spring and fall are more like curtains opening and closing the main act of Winter, and the shorter but just as spectacular Summer act.
By the calendar, summer doesn't start for five weeks, but the sun doesn't set until after 10pm already, and we're seeing green poke out, and today the sun was warm. Is that spring? By my calendar it's summer already. The first dandelion is already mirroring the sun. And we had our first breakfast out on the deck yesterday.
And the birch leaves out front are halfway open.
The names of the seasons are just labels, created by people who lived where there were four distinct seasons. In Thailand it was rainy and dry, or hot and hotter. Growing up in LA, the English season names never made sense. And in Anchorage, the labels don't quite fit either.
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