I used to think my favorite season was spring. My birthday is in May, and I like my birthday.
Then I started to think I liked summer best. Summer meant hanging out outside. And sweat. I like sweat for some reason.
Then I liked winter because it meant basketball season. Back when I played, that was a big deal. After I quite playing basketball, I quite liking winter so much, until it slowly grew back on me in university, thanks partially to scarfs and jackets.
Then I liked autumn because of the wind blowing down the streets. I like it because of Thanksgiving. I like it because of the trips I remember taking around this time.
Then I realized I just like the changes. I like the differences that come with each of the seasons. Now whenever someone asks which is my favorite, I just say, “This one.”
