I have been seeing a lot of posts about springtime arriving elsewhere in the world. So as I pondered the arrival of spring here on St. Maarten (has anything changed?) I thought I'd post about the seasons on St. Maarten. We've lived here since last August and had 2 of the best summer months of our lives. With white sandy beaches to explore and warm waters to wade in, constant blue skies and an appropriate warm climate, we were in heaven. When summer turned into fall there were no leaves to be seen changing colors on trees, even the palm fronds always stay green. My favorite blog authors were making posts about the preparations for fall and reminding me of how much I love that season. I missed taking Ezra to the pumpkin patch we always went to since he was a baby, to watch him partake in this beloved seasonal ritual as a walking, jumping, running, and talking 2 1/2 year old. As a stay at home mommy and former educator of young children, I wasn't sure whether to even talk about fall leaves and bountiful harvests with Ezra as there were none to be seen in his real life surroundings. And most surprisingly to myself, I missed putting away my summer wardrobe to pull out my tights, scarves, sweaters, and knitted things. There was no need to change our diet to more warming soups and hearty loaves of fresh baked bread (although I did anyway). But most bothersome of all to me, was the lack of need to knit warm woolen things for my family (and I did that anyway too - it did get colder in the apartment with the A.C. on!). The weather here is always somewhere in the 80 degree Fahrenheit range. I have come to love this constant warmth, embrace my good fortune to live on this island, and remember our time here is only temporary. I will have many traditional seasonal changes again in my lifetime. I don't want to forget my time here and the subtle changes we do experience as the seasons change here closer to the equator. So when summer turned to fall, we didn't delight in the arrival of pumpkin spiced lattes at Starbucks or the first fire in the fire place, we braced ourselves for our first hurricane season. Being from California, hurricanes were unknown firsthand to us, we'd only seen the pictures of the devastating aftermath that can come from one. We had also heard the scary stories of some of the AUC students being trapped in water up to their necks in their homes during the previous year's Hurricane Omar. There were threats of a hurricane named Ana coming from the coast of Africa to the Leeward Islands. We were told by hotel staff to stock up on water and canned food. A friend living at our hotel told us how to plug our refrigerator into a certain plug in our unit that was connected to the backup generator in case we lost power. The morning we went down to our hotel's lobby to find carpenters boarding up the open breezeway, we began to realize the possible destruction coming our way in the form of a hurricane. We prepared ourselves by getting lots of water and some canned beans and other foods we could eat if we had no stove for a few days. But, Hurricane Ana changed into tropical storm Ana, and when she blew by one night, I only woke up and stayed laying in bed to hear the howling winds, while Ezra and Michael slept peacefully beside me. That was the biggest threat of a hurricane we were to experience. We would hear about possible tropical storms, watch on www.stormpulse.com and be relieved to see them change direction or dissipate before reaching St. Maarten. Hurricane season brought the rains and the mosquitos. The mosquito population quadrupled and the threat of dengue fever was a constant worry, propelling me to buy a mosquito net for Ezra's stroller and cover us with mosquito repellent every time we went outside. The weather was hot and humid and I was starting to realize that living on an island is great when you know your time is limited.
Even though I say I was glad to know I wouldn't live on an island forever, I have been enjoying my island life to the fullest - so much so, that I fear I will take back those words I ever said about not wanting to live on an island permanently. Every time you think it's just too hot and you can't take it anymore, you hop in the car and drive to the beach. It doesn't take long to realize why people flock here to have a relaxing vacation. The sand is soft, clean, and white, and the water is amazingly blue and warm and filled with beautiful sea life. One of the most notable changes fall brought was our ability to see the island of Saba from our living room window. It was like it had never been there before. All of a sudden an island appeared across the sea.
the view of Saba from our living room
When fall came to an end, winter blew in with the cooler breezes that attract the majority of tourists making winter on the island synonymous with "high season." The mega yachts arrived in both Marigot and Simpson Bays, making our bridge opening and closing times increase from 3 to 6 openings a day! This along with more cars on the road can make any errand take at least 30 if not 60 more minutes. L.A. traffic has nothing on St. Maarten traffic! (Okay, maybe a slight exaggeration.) But, it is not uncommon to see a person get out of their car and walk to another car to talk to its driver while waiting in bridge traffic. More businesses come back to life, and new ones start popping up. Beaches we went to in the summer where we had lots of space to sprawl out on, were now covered with tourists who put the beach boys back in business renting their lounge chairs and umbrellas. The water had changed too, with waves crashing along our shores that were once as calm as a lake, and for us locals the water was noticeably cooler. Our hotel's small beach disappeared where the tide swept all the way to the last step of the stairs.
our hotel's beach in the fall
our hotel's beach in the winter
Michael and I found ourselves often commenting how we much prefer low season on the island and that that would be the time we'd prefer to come back to visit. However, I did enjoy the cooler (if you can really use that adjective - it is never really cool here) weather winter brought and spent longer days at the beach than in the summer sun's hotter rays.
We have one more month of high season before it comes to an end with a Carnival celebration that culminates with the burning of the straw figure King Momo, who according to local legend takes the village sins with him and leaves the island pure. Hotel rates drop, the masses of tourists leave, and I'm hoping our warm waters return along with our hotel's private beach. So far with the arrival of spring, I have felt the weather get warmer and the humidity increase. Saba is out of sight once again. It is only just the beginning, but it will be interesting to watch and see how quickly the boats start to dwindle again in the bays and with that the traffic that congests our one main road that goes around the island. With the end of high season also comes the end of another AUC semester. We will share two blessed weeks with Michael enjoying the island like tourists again, which I think is fun no matter what season you are here!
