Lots of things come in fours. We speak of four cardinal directions, north, south, east, and west. We name four seasons: spring, summer, autumn, and winter. The Book of Revelation speaks of four horsemen of the apocalypse: conquest, war, famine, and death. There are, however, a lot of other significant numbers in the bible and life. 40 is more frequently emphasized in biblical literature: 40 days and nights of rain, 40 years in the wilderness, 40 days of temptation. 7 is also a significant number: 7 days of creation, forgiving seventy-seven (or seven times seven) times, 7 days of marching around the walls of Jericho.

I have been present when indigenous elders prayed to the four directions, but I have also heard prayers in six directions, with up and down added to the four points of the compass.

The four compass points are not specific enough for navigation, so they are subdivided into northwest, southwest, northeast, and southeast. Further subdivisions are labeled north-northwest or west-northwest, and the like. Compass readings are oriented around 360 degrees, with 0 (or 360) being north, 90 east, 180 south, and 270 west.

I’ve been thinking that we must apply a similar logic to the seasons of the year. I’m not sure why most cultures have generally arrived at four seasons. It certainly seems like there are more than just four. Another common way to think of time is the Gregorian calendar, which is based on the Julian calendar and has twelve months of varying lengths. However, our calendar is not the only way to think of a year. The lunisolar Chinese calendar, developed by a Buddhist priest from the Korean Peninsula and used in several asian countries, presents the year divided into 72 seasons, each no more than a few days long. Seventy-two seasons seem more descriptive of the experience of the seasons than just having four. I like that “fish emerge from ice” in mid-February and “rainbows hide” in late November.

Our lives are less connected to the seasons than those of hunter-gatherers. Throughout history, survival depended upon the ability to anticipate the weather and the cycles of nature. Many ancient cultures had ceremonies to mark agricultural seasons, designating the time to plant and harvest. People who lived nearer to the poles observed solar and lunar cycles and developed systems of tracking and predicting solstices and equinoxes.

Technologies have been developed to stretch growing seasons. Greenhouses allow for planting and harvesting outside of the regular seasons. Refrigeration provides food storage and distribution outside of the seasons dictated by the weather. Genetic engineering and transportation systems produce the ability to eat many foods year-round. We are less tuned into the seasons than were earlier generations.

Moving to a new climate at retirement has heightened my awareness of the cycles of nature. The weather is milder than it was in our former home. Spring comes earlier, winter is less severe, and the growing season is longer. The migration of trumpeter swans and snow geese marks summer and winter. Our lawn remains green throughout the year, but often goes dormant in midsummer. That means that I am mowing my lawn a lot more, a chore that is offset by the fact that I don’t have to shovel much snow in this place.

This spring, we have been delighted by the emergence of flowers from bulbs. Daffodils and hyacinths followed the crocus. Now the tulips are reaching their peak along with the blooming fruit trees. In our yard, the cherry trees are almost through their bloom cycle, and the wisteria is nearly ready to break into bloom. The nurseries have bedding plants available. We will soon have fresh lettuce and kale. We are already looking forward to the various seasons of berries. We’ll harvest strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, cherries, and blackberries. There will be pears and apples in late summer and early fall.

With warmer temperatures, I’ll probably be putting dahlia tubers in the ground soon. We like blooms throughout the summer, and dahlias have a long blooming season. Plants that produce pollen and nectar throughout the summer are suitable for the bees, which produce variations of honey depending on which nectar sources they use. The first honey harvest will produce light-colored and fruity results. Late summer harvest will yield honey that is darker in color and a bit more savory. The honeybees are active outside of the hive for nearly nine months in this area.

Our Earth Day celebration yesterday reminded me that humans have impacted the cycles of nature. Temperatures are spiking, crops are withering due to increased drought cycles, glaciers are melting, and wildfires rage year-round rather than having a season. Earth Day also served as an invitation to spend more time outside appreciating the gifts of nature. I’m grateful for a retirement lifestyle that affords more time for walking, biking, and paddling. As I grow older, I am becoming more tuned into the cycles of nature. I didn’t farm or ranch as a vocation. I spent a lot of time indoors at a desk. Now that I am retired, I am becoming aware of the nuances and subtleties of the flow of seasons.

Four seasons work as a general framework. However, I am learning to think about other seasons and smaller units of time. Where we live now is the time to put seeds into the ground. I’ve got a few packets of seeds ready to go. The sunflower seeds harvested from last year’s flowers can go into the ground any day now. We can also start to put out bedding plants. Our region has several large greenhouse operations that provide bedding plants to big-box stores. There are plenty of bedding plants available. We know they will offer much lower prices later in the season, and there will be bargains when they get to the end of their selling season.

I am delighted to live in a place with many seasons within each of the four seasons. Anticipation of the next season adds to the joy of living.