May sunrises are the coldest of the year. “Huh? That makes no sense.” Just hear me out. As winter approaches and the temperatures start to drop, I am well prepareed. I begin to start layering up. As below zero windchills come around in January and February, I am well prepared to dress for it.

As the temperature begins to warm in the spring, I start to take a layer off. Then a second layer. One afternoon I’m talking a long walk in just a t-shirt, nearly feeling hot. The next morning there’s a windchill below freezing and I’m suddenly underdressed.

There is a 50º difference between the sunrises of May and the coldest sunrises of the year. But it’s easy to dress for 20-below.

If May sunrises are the coldest, are November sunrises the warmest? Yes, sometimes. An overdressed sunrise in winter is hotter and more miserable than the hottest sunrise of summer.

May is finicky. It brings the hope of the scenery turning from brown to green, but the process is never as quick as you think it’s going to be.

Along these shores, it’s not until May when the average temperature at sunrise begins to creep above freezing. There is still a near-guarantee of snowfall during May, whether it happens at sunrise or another time. With a little luck, by the end of May, trees will begin to turn green, buds will take shape, and you’ll start to smell the fragrance of lilac trees.

It’s just that in the Spring, the changing of seasons that no photograph can capture, the change of fragrances and the very energetic morning birds. It’s further evidence that no photograph of a sunrise is as good as the sunrise experienced.

“It was May—again. That soft, plumy, flowerful time when the world dreams in sun and light, and the air is filled with the music of growing things.” ― L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl