In East Tennessee, summer is LONG. Every year, I see the same meme circulating my newsfeeds, outlining Tennessee’s 12 seasons, and nearly half of the tongue-in-cheek descriptions of each phase in the cycle are dedicated to the six months of heat we experience here. There’s “summer,” “still summer,” “hell’s front porch,” “false fall,” and “second summer” or “summer, the sequel.” Yet every year, the same people who share, affirm, or laugh at this meme in August proclaim their undying love for the summer sun at the end of May. “Summer is FINALLY here!!!” they exclaim, forgetting that time a few short months ago, when we were all sweating bullets in our cardigans at Thanksgiving dinner or picking pumpkins on a 90 degree October day at the corn maze while peeling the photo-ready flannels off of our perspiration-drenched children. By the time school starts, even the champions of summer are dreaming about cool air and pumpkin spice, but at that point we still have another two months of summer weather to look forward to.
If it’s not already apparent to y’all, summer is not my jam. I hate the heat. I hate the steam blanket that covers the south from Knoxville down to the Florida pan handle for half the calendar year. I hate the disease-ridden swamp vampires that breed in my yard, infest my beloved Smoky Mountains, ruin evenings with their incessant buzzing, and defile my kids’ arms and legs with their tongue poison. I hate the vile, three-leafed itch-vines that creep into every garden, backyard, hiking trail, and campsite. Who can enjoy the outdoors in these conditions without a cool body of water involved?
People really love their summers, though, and in my experience, they do tend to go on about it quite a bit. Now I think it’s bad form to yuck someone else’s yum, and I consider myself a child of nature, so I like to welcome every season. I try to suffer the things that get me down about summer in silence and make the most of it. At least I don’t have to worry about school, and I do love to swim. Lightening bugs are pretty cool. People stay out later at night, so places don’t close as early. I recognize that there are aspects of summer worth celebrating, even if it’s my least favorite.
Being a lover of winter is lonely here. The general population seems to be very vocal about their hatred of this magical time of year, and frankly, it really bums me out. I mean, for one thing, we live in Knoxville. It’s not as if we are enduring life on the frozen tundra. Yesterday it was 70 degrees out in the middle of January, people. If you’re cold, light a fire – who doesn’t love sitting by the fire? Cuddle up under a cozy blanket and enjoy a warm beverage. If you don’t enjoy being outside in the cold, drive up to the Smokies, and drink in the snowy peaks from the comfort of your heated car. If the limited daylight is getting to you, light some candles, hang some twinkle lights in your yard, or go see the winter light displays in Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. Let me keep the cold, dark quiet; the frost, snow, and ice; and walks through the bare trees in the stark, mosquito-free air. I daresay we’ll still get some warm, spring-like days in February, and after all, winter is a brief and rare time in Tennessee.
J. Daugherty Nichols 