Much as I liked the summer, I always preferred spring. Spring is my birthday and as a kid that meant strawberries as well as warm nights and flowers blooming. Plus the arrival of summer, which either meant going somewhere nice to swim by the sea or moving back to the US. I’d usually find out before I was told because there was always an airplane catastrophe movie showing on TV in the spring 4-6 weeks before leaving for the US (my parents usually told me two weeks or so before we were leaving, presumably to curb my enthusiasm, or because they themselves had only just decided that once again it was time to head back to the States).

Later in life – so just before college, when I actually liked spending the summer in the city I was living in – summer always took on a patina of sadness. It meant the arrival of autumn and that always meant school, which contained its own finality. Especially when we stayed in Germany.

But even today I prefer spring to summer. Because aside from the above, the songs were also somehow more significant in the spring. Several times I discovered what turned into my favorite band in the spring, whereas the songs I heard in the summer always heralded sad or bad news. And most definitely signaled that I would not be meeting the love of my life within the next few months because he was gone for a while. Not just once but several times.

And while I was mad at whatever song it was, the truth is I really did like those melodies and lyrics. Even if listening to them meant I wouldn’t be seeing the person I wanted until the weather turned cold and the winter sweaters and fall coats began coming out.