Four seasons?

I realised today that in just two days it's July 1st. That's Canada Day back home, a national holiday. It's the kind of day that's usually celebrated with barbeques and fireworks. It's the epitome of summer. Everyone is out in shorts, lots of people head to the beach, there is the scent of sunscreen in the air and it's hot outside.

But I'm in Ireland this year, and you wouldn't know that it's summer. Today I'm wearing pants, a light sweater and a jacket. My umbrella is in my bag. I'm sure that in two days time, I won't be breaking out the shorts and tank top. Someone told me when I got here that winter and summer are only a few degrees apart. I would have to agree. While I don't miss the cold, damp rain of winter (and apparently I am here on a good year), it's also not too far gone in my memory. I seem to remember wearing my winter jacket and one day in April I switched to my lighter coat, and sometime in May I switched to my spring jacket. That jacket hasn't come off yet, except for a few gloriously warm days in May and June. As the Summer Solstice has come and gone, I wonder when I'll drift back into my coat without even realising it.

In Canada the change in seasons are dramatic. It's -27C one day, 0C the next, and entirely plausible to have 20C within two weeks of that. I've spent some autumn weekends leaving my place in Toronto wearing shorts, and arriving later that night at the cottage up north wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and seeing my breath when getting out of the car. People in Canada are often jarred by the change of the seasons. People get the flu around these times of year, or report having vivid dreams or trouble sleeping. People never drift through the seasons not noticing the change.

As I woke up at 4am this morning with the sun streaming through my window, I started to think that maybe Ireland does have seasons, but only two of them: light and dark. When I first arrived in February, sunrise was close to 9am and sunset was around 4:30pm. Now, sunrise is at 4am, and sunset is at 11pm. I love the light evenings, it makes the nights seem so much longer and it's a pleasure to walk home at night in the daylight. However, I haven't been able to get used to it in the morning yet. For the first few weeks of really early sunrises, I woke up with a jolt because I was convinced I overslept my alarm. I no longer do that, but it's a rare morning where I don't wake up at least once before 6am. Other Canadians I've spoken to here have also commented on not being able to sleep. I remember to when I first arrived and I was in bed at 10am every night. I thought it was because of the overwhelming nature of being in a new environment, but now I wonder if it was because it was so dark all the time - because I'm not sleeping at all now, and this place is still overwhelming for me.

I remember coming out of the gym one day in April and being shocked that it was still light out at 8pm. Something tells me that I'll be similarly shocked at the end of August, just two months from now, when I wake up one morning and it's still dark outside.