Every Season Teaches a Different Way to Be Sad

Winter sadness feels like frost—sharp, crystalline, beautiful in its precision. I discovered this during my first December without my mother, when grief matched the season’s honest brutality. No pretense, no false comfort, just clean acknowledgment that some losses create permanent winters in the heart.

Spring sadness carries different texture entirely—the bittersweet melancholy of watching everything bloom while feeling internally barren. Hope arriving without invitation, renewal happening around me but not within me. It’s the sadness of being left behind by optimism, of remaining winter while the world becomes spring.

“Protiyek moshumer alada dukkho ache,” I realized while watching monsoon rain create perfect soundtrack for romantic melancholy. Each season has its own sadness. And strangely, I cherish them all—these specialized sorrows that only emerge during specific atmospheric conditions.

Summer sadness burns different—not the gentle melancholy of autumn or winter’s clean despair, but restless dissatisfaction that matches July’s relentless energy. The sadness of having no excuse for lethargy when everything demands vitality. Depression wearing the mask of hyperactivity.

Monsoon sadness might be my favorite—the luxurious melancholy that feels appropriate, environmentally supported, almost indulgent. Rain provides perfect excuse for introspection, for sitting with feelings instead of pushing through them. Weather that permits sadness instead of demanding happiness.

Autumn sadness carries nostalgia’s weight—not just for specific memories but for the feeling of feeling deeply, for seasons when emotions seemed more vivid, before experience taught us to moderate intensity.

Why do I have these specialized sorrows? These season-specific ways of being sad that feel as natural as seasonal clothing changes?

Maybe because different atmospheric conditions call forward different aspects of the psyche. Winter sadness accesses grief that other seasons keep buried. Spring sadness reveals loneliness that happiness masks. Each season creates appropriate conditions for processing specific emotional materials.

The gift of seasonal sadness: each type serves different function, helps metabolize different psychological nutrients, provides specialized processing for experiences that generic sadness couldn’t handle.

Tonight’s autumn melancholy carries different wisdom than winter’s despair or summer’s restless sorrow. Each has its place, its purpose, its particular beauty that I’ve learned not to resist but to recognize, honor, and eventually release when its seasonal purpose is complete.