We could all try to erase or pacify the idea of change as much as we'd like, but going through seasons will always bring us back to the sanctity of change. I have noticed there is an exact moment, time, and place where my entire body realises that the season is now changed. This is often as simple as feeling the slightly cooler or warmer touch of the sun. A breeze that's not quite as sweet or dry as I would expect. The flowering of certain gumtrees, plants, or the yellowing of leaves. The call of a certain migratory bird. My favourite is when I consciously process the incongruence of a shining sun but still feeling slightly cold on my morning walk during the start of winter. Then, there comes a flood of thoughts, emotions, and a powerful but unnerving flash of the future. Where will I be when this season passes me? What will I be doing when I realise the next season is now with us. Who will I be? Will I make the most of the time I have now that everything and everyone is seemingly…
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