The seasonal swap: hello swimming, goodbye soup

Spring has a way of rearranging things. The swimming, evening walks, open windows, and sitting outside until dark all come back — while soup, cosy, lazy Sundays, and snowy day trips quietly move out of reach. I see now that these seasonal routines are just taking turns rather than something being lost. Nothing I love has disappeared; it is simply waiting for its season again.

Last week I wrote about the light coming back … and with it, me. This week, I’ve noticed what else is returning.

Swimming. Evening walks. Sitting outside until it gets dark. Opening every window in the house. Cleaning that same house, which I’d like noted as the most suspicious item on the list.

I didn’t plan any of it. I just caught myself standing on the balcony at 6pm one night thinking, I could go for a walk. And then, actually, I want to.

Ask me in July and I’d have looked at you as though you’d suggested a hike up Everest in thongs.

I didn’t stop loving it

None of these things are new. I haven’t suddenly discovered a passion for fresh air. I used to love all of it, and then winter came along and quietly moved my summer things out of reach.

Short days, cold water, dark by five. It covered up and hit the swimming (and, honestly, who’d want to go swimming in the middle of winter?). I didn’t decide swimming was over. I didn’t stop liking it. It just stopped being accessible.

And now the days are getting longer, summer’s on its way and all my “summer things” have come back at once. Not as effort, but as wanting. I’m not forcing myself to open the blinds and windows and let in the sun and fresh air. I’m opening them because the house feels stuffy and I can’t bear it.

(I still can’t explain the cleaning. I’m choosing not to ask too many questions.)

The other side of the seasonal swap

Of course, it works both ways.

If spring hands me back swimming and sunsets and sitting on the deck with a coffee, it also takes a few things away. And – even though winter is my least favourite season – I’d like to acknowledge my winter things.

Soup, for one. I know I said I was ready for salad, and I am. But I do love a good soup in the right circumstance. A pot on the stove on a cold night is its own kind of happy, and I know by the end of summer it’s one of the things I’ll be looking forward to again.

Guilt-free snugly Sundays, too. In winter, spending a whole day on the couch under a blanket with a book is practically a civic duty. In summer, the same day starts to feel like I’ve wasted it. The weather stops giving me permission.

Taking turns

I think I used to resent this a bit. The sense that I could never have it all at once, that every season came with a little loss tucked inside it.

Now it just feels like taking turns. Winter gets the soup and the couch and the snow. Summer gets the water and the walks and the open windows. Nothing is gone, it’s just waiting in the wings.

So the windows are open, the walks are happening, and there’s a very real chance I’ll be swimming regularly next month.

I’ll miss the soup. But it’ll be right there when I need it.

What does this shift in seasonal routines look like for you?