“Up rose the wild old winter-king, And shook his beard of snow; "I hear the first young hard-bell ring, 'Tis time for me to go! Northward o'er the icy rocks, Northward o'er the sea, My daughter comes with sunny locks: This land's too warm for me!” FirstsHardYoungSeaLandRocksKingsDaughterRoseWinterWarmRingsSnowMy DaughterBellsLocksBeardSunnyIcy Author:Charles Godfrey Leland
“And then God gave me insight: this was winter. It would end, in time, but not by my own doing. My responsibility was simply to know the season, and match my actions and inactions to it. It was to learn the slow hard discipline of waiting. It was my season to believe in spite of-to believe in the absence of evidence or emotion, when there's nothing, no bud, no color, no light, no birdsong, to validate belief. It was my time to walk without sight.” KnowsBelieveEndsHardLightActionBeliefWaitingMy OwnWalksEmotionResponsibilityColorDisciplineEvidenceSeasonsSightWinterInsightAbsenceMy TimeSpiteInactionBudBirdsong Author:Mark Buchanan
“It is the fashion to talk of our changing climate and bewail the hot summers and hard winters of tradition, but how seldom we pause to marvel at the remarkable constancy of the weather from year to year.” YearsHardFashionSummerTraditionHotClimateWinterWeatherRemarkablePausesConstancyHot Summer Book:The Peverel papers: nature notes written in Liphoo, Hampshire, 1921-1927 Source: The Peverel papers: nature notes written in Liphoo, Hampshire, 1921-1927
“Los Angeles has no seasons, so it's kind of hard to keep track of time here. The lines between spring, summer, fall, and winter all blur like my vision. I get stuck on repeat for different measures of eternity.” KindDifferentHardFallLinesVisionSummerSpringSeasonsEternityWinterTrackStuckRepeatsLos AngelesBlurSpring SummerFall And Winter Author:Kris Kidd