It’s hot.
It’s cold.
It’s rainy.
It’s sunny.
Windows open.
Windows shut.
Long sleeve.
Short sleeve.
No sleeve.
Shorts.
Jorts.
Pants.
Skirts.
Tall socks.
No socks.
Flippy flops.
Put the fan in the window pointing directly at the bed.
I’m freezing! Turn the fan off!
One leg out of the blankets.
It’s transition time.
The changing o’ the guard from one “season” to another.
One can neither put sweaters away permanently, or leave the house without a hood.
“Should I bring a jacket?”
“Yes, yes. You should always bring a jacket.” “Is it gonna rain?”
“……….”
Growing up in the midwest, you learned to study the clouds.
which ones brought rain
which ones meant a storm was coming.
a purple or green sky meant tornado.
your upper body humid….
your legs whipped with a cold wind…
meant get to shelter.
you had a basement to run to.
you got under a cement overpass if you were out driving.
you know how to drive in the snow.
you know when to wait it out at a friends house.
It’s transition time.
Welcome home, Jeewon.
Welcome home, Ida.
Welcome home, Nick.
“If lost, please return to 5153 N. Ashland”
