A man for all seasons
Not a ramble about the 16th-century Chancellor of England Sir Thomas More. As I was cleaning out the ashes from my wood burning stove this morning I got to thinking about the various emotions that stir with the different seasons of the year. There are pros and cons to each season and I do try to balance my likes and dislikes with all of them. We’re in the midst of winter as I type this, I hate the cold with a passion, I am never more miserable than when I have cold feet! Scraping ice off the car, sitting on cold leather seats, icy pavements and shovelling snow… yet on the other side of the coin, I love being wrapped up warm in my sheepskin pilot jacket, sitting by my wood burner with a mug of hot chocolate, looking at snow through the window and the fact that the snow makes my garden look as tidy as all the rest, for once! I love the bleakness of winter.
There are many more things I love about winter, a kind of glad to be home feeling, I love to get warm in a cold bedroom, comfort food, pies, mashed potato…
After winter, spring. There is something magical seeing the world coming to life after winter. I am a keen bonsai grower and there is always the doubt in the back of your mind as to whether your trees will survive the winter so seeing the buds is always great. I can’t think of any down sides to spring, there is a thank goodness the winter is over and the coming of longer days to look forward to.
Summer, well, on the whole I love summer, with the exception of not being so fond of it being generally too warm, but other than that summer is a good season. There is the added bonus of surrepticiously perving at ladies in thin summer dresses, which can only be surpassed by pool perving, though sadly I don’t get the chance for that often but it is well worth doing when you get the chance! 
Autumn, maybe it is the artist in me, but, well, it is the colours that make autumn such a lovely season. There is also the feeling of the year coming to an end as autumn turns back to winter. On the face of it a year coming to an end sounds a bad thing but I find it rather refreshing for a number of reasons. There is the feeling of the harvest of art and writing gathered in for a year, the wheel turning full circle, there is a little regret for all the things not done, but there is the promise of the virginal blank page of the New Year….. and what artist can resist making the first mark on that new blank page?
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