January is the month of dead, the air is frozen and leeches into your bones, it is the month of rest. It is 3 layers just to leave, its fluffy socks, holiday leftovers, renewed motivation, this will be our year. It is not quite birth, maybe conception. The womb is still cold and sleeping. But the seeds are already planted, and in a few short months, she will be born again. February is the month of hope, she promises it’s almost over. A moment of love and surprise in a long year. 6 more weeks of winter or is spring here? Hearts, and strawberries, and chocolate. The world explodes in professions of love and lust. The countdown to spring has begun. March is the month of patience, spring is here but she comes at her own pace. Some days, you feel her hot on your face. Other days, you cannot find her behind winters shadow. She is spring break, she is chaos after months in hibernation. Parties, cookouts, planting the first seeds of the year She is a busy yet slow month. A month of shaking off the winter restlessness and preparing for the spring I picture April as a botanical beauty. She is blooming flowers, colored Easter eggs, sundresses, days in the garden. Picnics where we chatter on about plans for the year, it’s spring cleaning, gardening. It’s the hard work of the year, the bees are busy now and so are we. My favorite is May; it wasn’t always. But May is when summer really starts to appear. Summer is excited and nothing can stop her. She peaks her head around the corner long before the Mother approves her coming. May is spring thunderstorms, it’s wet and rainy but also warm and sunny. She is fickle and cannot make up her mind. May reminds me of my sister, and the start of summer break. I remember May nights on the porch swing in the rain with my mother, how we talked on and on while the rain and thunder came down around us. June is a special month for me. June is summer, my birthday, his birthday. June is lake days, long nights, catching frogs. It’s sunbathing, amusement parks, concerts. June is a month that goes on forever but is also gone too fast. It is week long sleepovers with your best friend, sangrias, and pool days. Catching fireflies in the warm night, playing mermaids way past dark, sun burns, cold cuts with chips. Lemonade, the smell of sunscreen and chlorine, mosquito bites, and tiki torches to keep them away June is a feeling, it can’t simply be explained July is the last month of summer vacation. It’s rushing to finish all the things you want to do, staying up extra late out of spite. July is childhood nostalgia, fresh fruits, and adult fun. Cookouts, camping trips, popsicles, and all nighters. July is the fair, the taste of funnel cakes and cotton candy, bomb pops, and lemon shake ups. She’s fireworks, lake days on the boat, dad smoking meats, and fishing for dinner. August gets a bad reputation, she marks the start to school and the end of summer. She’s impossibly hot, and by this point people are complaining about the same sun they begged for. Now people countdown the changing of the leaves and the cooling wind. August is school shopping, new schools, new teachers. Excitement and anxiety create a sickly sweet mixture to welcome the school year. It’s riding bikes after school and showing off, new friends, a fresh start September is the relief of fall, harvest, the changing of leaves. September is the perfect temperature, the air smells crisp and fresh, the amber leaves like jewels brightening the landscape. September reminds me of my mom, and how she always got double chocolate cupcakes for her birthday, of her brown eyes. September is getting settled into school, and settling down from the buzz of summer. September is a restful period before the holidays, a deep breath. October is pumpkins, ghostly things, the smell of cinnamon, candy, apple cider. October is horror movies, bloody thirsty vampires, corn mazes, and zombies from the dead. Crunching leaves beneath your feet, and pregnant silence in the air. What horrors can your mind come up with? Immortal serial killers, witches, vengeful spirits, demons. Cocktails with wayy too much liquor, throwing up with vampire fangs in, sleeping in a cold garage in a sparkly tutu. Hay rides, pumpkin carving, getting drunk in corn fields, TP-ing houses, chucking corn. A month of mischief November is a month of gratitude and food. I think apples and cinnamon, turkeys, sweat pants. I think of the chilly fall air, the anticipation of the first snow. It’s family get togethers, big family pictures, sometimes big family fights. There’s always someone stressing over the turkey, someone who won’t bring a dish, someone who only brings alcohol. It’s gratitude, controversy, and a LOT of food. December is always Christmas, the end of the year. Winter is here by now. It’s mistletoe, snow, Santa Claus too of course. It’s gift giving and gift wrapping, homemade candy, puppy chow, and Christmas lights. Christmas music that starts cheery and ends up driving you mad, it’s the sounds of bells, Tim Allen, and of course the inevitable stomach flu. Long winter break where you lose track of time, so much leftovers, heating pads, and stockings full of peanuts.