I walk upon the earth heavily, my bare feet sinking softly into the warm dark soil `twixt the upward shoots of brilliant green. Sauntering, as is my custom of stride, along the four corners of our humble manor in the waning afternoon. Spring, it seems, is now upon us…
Spring, I have decided, is my favorite Season of the year – though that may have more to do with its present freshness than any depth of thought. My mood is, in some small way, carried to and fro across the span of my mind by the annual turn of this terrestrial sphere. Even as a dead cold rock does pull the mighty Ocean tides, do the leanings of this little earth ebb and flow my state of Being.
The extremes of deepest Winter and Summer like me not, for one is altogether too dominated by the bleak cold whilst the other is nearly as stifling in its swelter. Autumnal and Vernal moderation adheres more closely to my personality and their place as transitions between the axis of the Cold and the Heat appeals to my sense of harmony.
My preference, then, for Spring over the Fall is tied to the particular symbolism found in each turn… for Autumn precedes the sleeping death of the land and the creatures, while Spring is its resurrection.