Seasons Change

 Back in NC, George and I  enjoyed strolls on the beach and lighthouse climbing, walks in the park on crisp fall mornings. We loved snow gazing through streetlamps on snowy winter nights, and glorious springtime bursting with life.  We enjoyed the changing of seasons.

Before we moved  to Malawi in November 2012 we spent many months researching the relationship between women, wood, and water, disease and poverty, but we never gave much thought to the weather here. We knew that Malawi is on a parallel in the southern hemisphere that Jamaica is in the northern hemisphere, and I thought that meant a year long tropical climate with no real seasonal changes. But since moving here to live on Zomba Mountain  we have learned that Malawi does have seasons, much more subtle than NC, but nonetheless distinct.


When we first arrived, farmers  (and 80% of Malawians are farmers) were preparing their fields and waiting for the first rains of the season to plant their crops. In the rainy season, each morning a mist rises from the slopes of the Zomba range, gathering, building, and lifting to form thick clouds that completely cover the tops of the mountains. Without much warning, shadowy gray clouds cover the sky then burst into torrential downpours. This season is.marked by hot weather, heavy rains, and sometimes flooding.  Many times, our  backyard was covered by water several cm deep, and on one occasion, we had to take off our shoes and wade  from our car to our house.


Over the past few weeks, we have noticed a change in weather patterns. The tropical downpours of the rainy season are over and it is the beginning of harvest time. Farmers  are now harvesting their maize, peanuts, and pumpkins. Thick clouds no longer hang over the mountain peaks, but above the peaks there is a crystal clear, brilliant blue sky. There are rains, but they are infrequent, gentle, and short lived.   Unlike in the rainy season, every ridge and crag of the mountain peak above us are visible, and every spring pouring from the side of the mountain sparkles in the sunlight. A few days ago, we saw for the first time two little houses nestled in a fold in the mountain side.

Burr! Mornings are chilly, so we slide on our slippers before putting our feet down on the cold concrete floor. We quickly dress then I pull on a jacket. This is the crisp clear air of fall. Each evening  about sunset a cool breeze pours down the mountain ridges above us and  gently lifts our kitchen curtains and surges through our house. Then, overnight temperatures drop, so we pull that warm blanket and comforter around our chins.  We haven't used it yet, but maybe it is time to light up that large fireplace in the livingroom, the only heatsource in this old house.