The Four Seasons
November 3rd, 2008Every year, day after day, year after year, mother nature acts out a story.
It starts with the birth of the world. The clouds started to part, showering the earth with life-giving rain. The grass comes to life, growing greener and greener by day. The flowers wake up from the ground, starting as buds, soon to bloom into a picture of beauty. The trees wake up from their sleep, and some of her children come out to play after a long nap. The inhabitants of the earth called this spring, for everything had sprung to life.
The earth continued to grow and grow, pulsing with newfound vitality. The sun started to show up to work more often, cuddling the planet with light and warmth. Everything from the foundations of the earth to the bluish tint in the skies was at its peak, its climax. The inhabitants of the earth called this summer, for what had started in spring had somehow bled into summer.
Then, towards the end of summer, everything started to slow down. The green of the leaves bled into every brilliant hue of red, orange and yellow; aging, maturing, refining. The blazing intensity of the sun started to cool, giving a nip to the air. The skies started to cry more often, and the clouds seemed to be stuck in a perpetual state of depression. The inhabitants of the earth called this fall, for the life which had been thriving in the summer was slowly falling apart.
The earth grew colder. The sun started to call in sick more often, the sky started sobbing legions of snowflakes and the air in the atmosphere grew frostier by the day. Many of the creations which had been given to her hid their faces from the world, burrowing deep in the earth or simply curling up to wait for a better season. Some died; others killed trees and decorated their dead bodies to the tune of Christmas carols. The inhabitants of the earth called this winter, for they all wondered whether or not they would ever see spring, summer or fall again.
Just when it seemed that world couldn’t be more devoid of life, something magical happened. The sun started recovering from its cold, the skies started showering the earth tears of joy instead of sadness, and somehow, just somehow, the world started growing again.
And so, day after day, year after year, mother nature endlessly acts out her story. She has done her encore thousands of times and many of her audience members are lost in translation, but those who stop to watch her play unfold with curious eyes and undivided attention will come to see the delicate balance, the perfect cycle, and the precise planning behind playwright’s masterpiece.
They will watch it unfold all around them, and they will call it the four seasons.
Goodness gracious great balls of fire! It’s the best seasons poetic story that I’ve ever read!
Reply: Hahaha! Glad you think so. :)
November 3rd, 2008 at 7:21 pm