But seasons don’t really start or end that way.

Maybe that’s why we feel off when we try to live by strict dates. We think: It’s spring now, I should feel new. It’s December, I should be merry. It’s October, I should be cozy and wise.

The truth is: seasons overlap. They bleed into each other like watercolors. One season’s end is always a slow unraveling, not a door slamming shut.

Here’s a deep, reflective post on the start and end dates of seasons—meant to be shared as a note or caption for social media, journal entry, or blog. The Quiet Edges of Seasons

And that’s enough.

Because the calendar doesn’t decide when you turn a page. You do. And sometimes the most honest thing you can say is: I don’t know what season this is. But I’m here in it.