If you can’t tell by now, it has been beautiful in my neck of the woods. With temperatures hovering in the 70s and with very little humidity, I’ve been thinking a lot about how much my life would be different, perhaps, if I lived in a place with year-round beautiful weather. Maybe, just maybe, I like to convince myself when trudging through snow or blowing “smoke” in temperatures in the 2os or below, maybe I was born to live in a warmer climate.

Maybe we all were. But then summer comes and then I find myself yearning for the cool of Fall, for the changes in foliage, for different seasons that make me appreciate the warmth when its turn comes around.

Too much of a good thing. Yeah, maybe if I did live in a place that was warm all the time, maybe I’d get tired of it and hope for snow. Maybe.

Maybe I need these seasons to give me reason to appreciate their changes and that I can, with them, change and be something different, appreciate something different.

I don’t know how I got here from where I started in talking about my desire to live in a warmer place, but I guess that’s what can happen in five minutes. Maybe that’s the beautiful of five minutes of writing. The beauty? If you let it, you’ll never know where your pen (or keys) will go.

STOP.

Do you ever think about how your life would be different if you lived in a different kind of climate, place, city, country?