During a 110 degree summer in Idaho, my last visit to my grandma, sawing off tree limbs for her with joy.

I’m not a climate change denier. I’m aware that things are hotter than they’ve ever been and that things are only going to get worse. I fervently hope we’re able to do something about it and reverse this.

That disclaimer out there: I love the summer.

When I was a kid, this was a no-brainer. Everyone said summer was their favorite season. No school! Freedom! Water parks and family vacations! This attitude started to turn around for some people around high school or college. Even when I lived in Louisiana, my favorite season was the fall. Part of that was still connected to school, I believe. I liked fresh paper, new notebooks, new classes, kind of a turnover.

Then I moved to Chicago.

In a matter of seasons, fall had come to mean nothing more than the death of comfortable living and a herald to a frosty, bitter, extended winter. For winter in Chicago was always extended. Always bitter.

There were things I learned to enjoy about it—as one must in order to survive without going insane—bundling beneath blankets with a book, snowy Christmas decorations, sleeping beneath piles of blankets, but that’s it. The list of things I enjoyed about winter was as brutally short as the season was long. And the longer I lived in Chicago, the more my intolerance grew. It was as if I reverse-adapted.

The more I learned about myself, the more I came to realize that I like to be outside. Running, biking, gardening, walking, etc. I like bare feet. Tossing on some flip flops to go anywhere necessary. I don’t mind sweating. I love running early, early in the morning, sweating in shorts and a sports bra, watching the sun rise.

I like reading a book on the couch and not having to worry about stopping because my fingers are above the blanket and they are too cold. I like the late sunsets. I know I’ll be done with work if I want to watch one. I have extra time in the garden after work before it gets dark. I love running at 5 a.m. when it’s not dark outside.

I feel better in my body during the summer. I take beaucoup d’vitamin D supplements in the winter, but there’s nothing like actual sun on the skin. My periods are easier, my breasts are smaller, I’m just chemically happier. I cannot explain it.

I can be more daring in the summer.

There’s something about the colder months that causes me to retreat. I can’t watch crime shows or enjoy anything really intense or thought provoking in the winter. I only want comfort for my mind. Possibly because my body is being besieged by chills and my hormones are gasping for Vitamin D. This doesn’t mean that I don’t create in the colder months, just that I may throw less spaghetti at the walls.

As I suspected, looking at my completely unscientific personal poll in addition to a couple of more scientific online polls (here and here), I am in the minority. Most people like fall or spring the best.

A few quotes from my own poll that uphold these findings:

“Fall, because the feel and smell of that first crisp breeze makes my whole year,” says Kyle Gordon. “It also doesn't hurt that it always starts to change to fall around my birthday.”

“I think autumn. The temperature is best to me (usually between 50-75 degrees), the turning leaves are pretty to me, and it’s that time of year that lives in anticipation of all the fun end-of-year things,” adds Dean Beever. “Technically, my birthday’s in autumn, too.”

Okay, we get it, guys. Your birthdays are a special time of year. (Snark in jest, every birthday should be celebrated.)

Lauren Thoman, however, represents the spring crowd. “Spring, because the weather is mild and all the plants are starting to come back,” she says. “I love watching them all wake up, and how they look different every day.” This will surprise no one who knows her, as she is a goddess among gardeners and will gift everyone in her vicinity with extra fruit-bearing plants that “just got too big” to fit in her already flourishing beds.

Things that cannot be enjoyed in the winter.

I find it incredibly interesting that the transitional seasons are so popular, even though autumn used to be my favorite. Now I have the most trouble sleeping and feel the most restless during these seasons. Even though I would still put winter at the bottom of my list, my habits are settled during this season.

I found one other (adult) person who embraces my love of the sun. Of course, he lives in England, where it’s a bit cooler, but it still counts. “Summer,” says Tom Davies. “Long nights. Early mornings. Not cold, etc.” Brief, but hits all the salient points.

All that being said, would I appreciate the summer if it were neverending? Honestly, I think I would, if I were in an island location that was consistently eight-five degrees. I would find it exciting to visit colder places. I don’t know how I would feel about a world completely devoid of seasons.

I do enjoy the brief bursts of snow we get here in Nashville. Unlike in Chicago, the world shuts down. Everyone stays in. It’s nice and quiet and still. I don’t have to struggle through the cold and slush. And it usually only lasts a week or two. I feel that I enjoy it’s visit more knowing that it will be brief.

I like my long, hot southern summers. But I enjoy the little taste of winter on occasion.

I love the season that everyone hates.