Season

Season wandered her way throughout the year. Her moods shifted from cool to benign, balmy to frigid, steamy to stormy. She was changeable, to say the least.

One spring, she brought a freezing damp and withered the tulips who had foolishly begun to open up. After that, she moved with loving tenderness, nurturing and encouraging nascent ideas and growth.

As spring gave way to summer, she shone. Brilliant in the high blue sky, sun beamed down, grass grew tall and lush, crops grew sweet, deer grew fat. She had her tempers of course, sending wind swirling and ripping across fields and through neighborhoods until she was spent and her mood cleared. Stars bloomed in the sky as crickets sang.

By autumn she grew tired. Color blazed across her countenance then fades to brown and dropped to damp earth. Flowers ceased to bloom. Nights grew cold. She grew feeble.

Finally, she laid down and slept, left to dream of returning youth.