What a wonderful world!

As I sit here this morning, sipping my coffee and gazing out my office window, the view in middle Georgia is pure magic. The azaleas are bursting into vibrant pinks and purples, tiny leaves are budding on the trees like hopeful promises, and—oh yes—there’s that familiar yellow-green haze of pine pollen coating everything in sight. It’s Spring, folks, and she’s announcing her arrival with all the enthusiasm of a long-lost friend!

Have you ever paused to wonder what really drives these annual cycles we call Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall? It’s simpler than you might think. Earth’s seasons aren’t caused by how close we get to the Sun (our orbit is nearly circular, with only minor variations). Instead, it’s all about tilt. Our planet spins on an axis that’s tilted about 23.5 degrees from straight up and down—like a slightly leaning top. As Earth orbits the Sun once a year, that fixed tilt keeps pointing in the same direction in space.

So, when the Northern Hemisphere tilts toward the Sun, we get more direct sunlight, longer days, and warmer weather: Summer. Six months later, when we tilt away, the rays hit at a shallower angle, days shorten, and Winter settles in. Spring and Fall are the gentle in-betweens, when the tilt is sideways to the Sun. Nature’s grand design—reliable, rhythmic, and breathtaking.

Isn’t that just like life? All living things follow cycles. Flowers bloom and fade, trees leaf out and drop their leaves, animals are born, grow, reproduce, and eventually return to the earth. For us humans, the seasons look a little different but follow the same beautiful pattern. Instead of Spring, we have conception, birth, toddlerhood, childhood—full of wonder and rapid growth. Then comes adolescence with its storms and discoveries, adulthood with its responsibilities and triumphs, and finally the senior years, our own quiet Winter. It all inevitably leads to death and the promise of something beyond.

King Solomon captured this truth so poetically in the Book of Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted…” (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2, KJV).

He goes on listing opposites—mourning and dancing, weeping and laughing—reminding us that life has its appointed rhythms, and fighting them is futile. Part of wisdom lies in embracing each season for what it offers.

That makes me think of what a wise Rabbi said at my mother-in-law’s funeral: All of life happens during the little hyphen between the birth date and death date etched on our gravestone. That tiny dash represents everything—joys, sorrows, choices, relationships. A bit humbling, isn’t it? When the final chapter closes, what will that hyphen say about us? What did we do with our time?

The Bible gives us two straightforward guidelines that cut through all the noise: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength… [and] love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:30-31, NIV). Jesus called these the greatest commandments, the foundation on which everything else hangs.

Imagine a world where we truly lived by them! Wars would fade, greed would shrink, kindness would multiply. Neighbors would help neighbors, families would forgive, and strangers would become friends. No more loneliness in nursing homes, no more bitterness in hearts. Just love—pure, active, God-centered love—flowing outward.  

Most of us reading this column are in our “Winter years.” The azaleas may still bloom outside, but our own Spring has long passed. Yet here’s the good news: It’s never too late. Winter isn’t the end; it’s a season for reflection, for deeper love, for legacy. We still have time to love God wholeheartedly—through prayer, gratitude, worship—and to love our neighbors practically: a phone call, a visit, a listening ear, a helping hand.  

Let’s make Louis Armstrong’s classic our anthem for these years: “I see trees of green, red roses too… And I think to myself, what a wonderful world.” (He didn’t say “what a wonderful life this has been”—it’s “what a wonderful world,” present tense, full of possibility.) With God’s help and a commitment to those two simple commandments, we can make our remaining days shine. Our hyphen can still write a beautiful story.

So enjoy this Spring, dear friends. Watch the azaleas and dogwoods blossom and let it remind you: Life cycles on, but love endures forever. Make your Winter wonderful!

Thanks for reading All About Seniors. See you next week!

Bill Milby is a Director of Visiting Angels® of Central Georgia, a non-medical, living assistance service for seniors. If you have questions or comments about this column, you can reach him at william.mercylink@gmail.com or search for us at facebook.com/VisitingAngelsofCentralGA