I am never able to use the changing of seasons as metaphor for the changes in my life.
For a simple reason really: More than it being a trite cliché, I’ve never been outside the Philippines in my 29 years of being alive.
I have never seen firsthand the leaves switching color palettes every quarter until they wilt and fall to the ground. I have never seen trees go into hibernation, be covered in snow, and then watch them come back to life.
In the Philippines, we go from heat wave to rain deluge in the span of one day—and this, if anything, best describes my temperament more than the changes in my life.
But I digress.