Summer has always been the star of the show. When she arrives, she makes sure everyone knows it. She times her arrival perfectly to steal attention away from her sister. The moment Spring steps out of the shadows and starts to shyly show her warmth and beauty, Summer pushes past her and steps into the spotlight. She makes sure she shines brighter, hotter, and greener than Spring ever did. She is far too proud to believe that most prefer her sister over her.

Summer’s reign does not last long. Once she has had her time on the stage, she is deposed by her sister Autumn. Autumn works slowly, creeping behind Summer, bringing her chill to gradually, but steadily, push Summer out of the spotlight. As she creeps, she distracts the world with gorgeous hues of red, orange, and yellow and the promise of cool, comfortable evenings that are a welcome change from Summer’s oppressive heat.

But Autumn doesn’t work alone. She only sets the stage for the coming of Winter. Winter is the cruelest of the four. Her presence blankets the stage and sucks the color and warmth from the room, erasing all memory of her sisters. Her hold on the spotlight lasts longer than any of the others, clinging far longer than the audience would like. Some are bored by her unchanging, cold performance; some rail against her harsh, desolate temperament, but all long for the return of Spring.

When the first sister finally reappears, she teases the audience, barely stepping a toe out from behind the curtain before retreating again, leaving the audience alone with Winter. But with sluggish progress, Spring finally makes her way back into the spotlight, gently ushering Winter off the stage, and the audience welcomes her warmly.

Sunny finally stops, "Ok, we'll rest here for the night," immediately followed by three heavy sighs of relief. "April, find water. Amber, start a fire. Eira... find us some dinner."

As Amber and April were about to shuffle off, Eira, visibly weak, drops to the earth, close to death as you can get from exhaustion. "I can't move another step, we've been walking all day."

"Eira, we're all in this together, we each need to do our part. The longer you sit, the harder it will be to get back up. We will be OK." Sunny's deep blue eyes gazed just as deeply into her soul. While fiercely intimidating, they would instill confidence in even the most unmotivated individual. But Eira is more stubborn than most.

"What's the point... nothing survives in the end anyway," she mutters, unsurprisingly woeful.

"Why do you always have to be the pessimist, Eira? You know Sunny hates it." April retaliates, defending her older sister.

"She's right, you know." Amber says as she picks up a piece of wood off the ground, "and for the record, I'm not being pessimistic."

"What do you call it then? Sure doesn't sound optimistic."

"It's called being realistic," she calmly replies, pulling out her pocket knife.

April must've never heard this word before, because she fails to respond and then looks towards Sunny for help.

Sunny rolls her eyes, "ok, Ms. Realist, how do you realistically propose we save mom?"

Amber had already started whittling the piece of wood she found. She remained silent for a few moments, then slowly looks up at Sunny, and dodges the question. "I thought you were the leader... what's your plan?"

Unaffected, Sunny beams with confidence, "by working together. Which reminds me, can you please start the fire?"

With a glare from her sage green eyes, Amber turns around and disappears into the dark, mumbling to herself, "yeah, yeah... that's not even a very specific plan..." Amber knows she is more the type of person to take someone else's ideas and improve on them, rather than make a new plan from scratch. She saves that kind of creativity for her artwork.

Sunny reminds April to find water, and after some direction, she heads towards the sound of a creek. April really looks up to her older sisters. She wishes to be just like Sunny, and she looks up to Amber if only to know how to be the opposite. Blue eyes, but a lighter shade than Sunny's; curious, growing strong, and with plenty of life still to see.

Then there's Eira. Eyes so dark brown that they look black if not exposed to direct sunlight. She is the oldest, and arguably the wisest. She's experienced so much loss that her outlook on life has become extremely cold and bitter. One would think the influence of Sunny's bright soul would help, and maybe it does, but she doesn't show it.

She finally found the energy to look for food, and about 20 feet into the darkness, to her delight, stumbled upon a ripe raspberry bush, making her task quick and easy.

They can all finally relax around the warmth of the fire. With bellies somewhat full from the fruit, they stare blankly into the dancing orange flames. No energy to bicker anymore, the minute differences in pitches of the crackling wood acts as music to combat the silence.

Eira sits alone further away from the flames than the rest. Amber sits cross-legged hard at work whittling at a safe distance from the others. April and Sunny sit together, with April's head at rest on Sunny's shoulder. They know what comes tomorrow, but for now, enjoy this moment together.

Sunny begins to hum a tune in hopes of increasing the overall morale. She hopes to create a sense of peace before the looming storm on the horizon.

(note: this is in relation to Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter in the northern hemisphere, as I understand it would be the opposite for the southern half. I may pursue this to be a proper short story or even book. Thanks for reading!)

warm lemonaide air

cool bare foot grass

face up catching rays

chill comes in colors

yellow orange brown

wool rubs cheeks rosy

barren dread blankets

black white grey sky

death has dominion

the greening surprises

the promise fulfilled

life returns flourishes

Winter

My heart is cold,

the outer layer dead,

blackened.

The roots survive,

hunkered down waiting for the sun

Spring

The flowers bloom,

beautiful colors fill the air.

I have found the one

who opens my petals

and lets in the sunshine

Summer

Everything is warm,

sometimes too much so.

But I keep on with the charade,

knowing what happens next.

Fall

My leaves start falling,

every lie you tell me is starting to fail.

My heart gets ready to close again,

preparing for another long winter

stuck lonely,

trying to preserve the roots for the next spring.

and whether,

wherever I go

whatever I am

I am set in wind

I am in season

yes I am, always,

in heat of winter

on the outskirts of Argentina

I'm in season, even

in the cool Swedish tundra

midnight sun unsettling

mid May to middle July

and in Amazonian

August droughts

my umbrella's

still held up

in demand

for the

current

rainy

season

05.18.2024

Personify the four Seasons challenge @AJAY9979

That raised me.

A shitty spring, to a farmer that wants to sell manure is a wonderful crick in words. Rough and tumble, unpredictable, late, early, she comes when she wants. A perfect woman shoehorned out of womanhood. She'd tell me if she wanted me to say more about her - be careful, she may be just around the corner. Or, acres down the way, she runs on her own time.

A blazing summer to a farmer that wants to grow pot is a catch-22. The heat laze combined with the green haze combined with the warmth of summer days means the advertising of summer activities is misleading; summer is for resting. A lazy, perfect woman, allowed womanhood on a technicality. What a lovely time and way of life, to toast everybody to perfection, hold them, warm them, love them gently.

Autumn after summer - I don't have a sibling born in fall, only one who was almost namesake'd the season. Mysterious woman - allowed as the blueprint. Nobody knows what she should have been, and in that, her personality blooms. Shhh - let her be silently unknown and known. It's what she wants. Start layering and covering up for the next, trial your fashions before the next season.

Winter. My best friend. A love hate relationship, as -22 can bite - the real activity season. Despite being ineffable during the entire rest of the year, we all love her for the contrast in temperature. Layers, hot chocolate, wasn't Christmas made to celebrate each other? Would you be more comfortable opening gifts with sweat dripping from your nose? A woman made by comparison - this one's the goat. She doesn't care for the scorn three fourths out of the year. She's only cold to drive people together. A sweet, shy, beautiful old woman who's more than happy to wait her turn.

winter

snow all around

the cold winter air blowing in my face

wondering if this is what all winter has for me

spring

spring flowers blossom and plume

colors of all kinds like a rainbow

leading me to a beautiful bouquet full of gold

summer

full of hot days and fun summer nights

time seems to go by so fast

that before we know it

summers already gone

fall

fall is here before we know it

stuck reminiscing on summer nights

but the cool fall days make you realize it

was worth the wait of time

Spring

She cries

Life is beginning

The ground is breaking

Branches make their way through her skin

They are plucked right out again

‘She is beautiful’ they say

The frost is leaving her body

More color sprouts on her skin

Newborn cries fill the air

Mothers die, swimming in their own blood

She watches after their children

‘She is cheery’ they say

The bright colors blind her

She does not recognize herself

Freedom feels within reach

Change comes quickly

Always shifting, always forgetting

‘She is young’ they say

Summer

She cries

Her skin is beginning to burn

It cracks and breaks

Laughter taunts her

Happiness mocks her

‘She is warm’ they say

She is burning

Sand slips between her toes

Inching its way into every part of her

Until there is nothing left

The water washes her away

‘She is fleeting’ they say

Laughter slowly dies

Music falls quiet

She watches romances fade away

Families drift apart

Bright smiles turn to soft lips

‘She is complete’ they say

Autumn

She cries

There is a chill in the air

Leaves keep her warm

Trampled into her skin

Bitterness enters her mind

‘She is changing’ they say

But she already has

She cannot stop shifting

Death feels within reach

But life clings on

Teetering on a strange edge

‘She is transient’ they say

She doesn’t recognize herself

Every hue of warmth but her own

She is growing lonely

Everyone hides themselves away

As she withers

‘She is dying’ they say

Winter

She cries

The busy streets keep her busy

She nips at every toe and nose

They laugh with warm smiles

She doesn’t know why

‘She is cozy’ they say

The twinkling lights agree

Frozen waters say otherwise

Kindnesses from strangers

More commonplace than ever

Unity is unconditional and fleeting

‘She is magical’ they say

She is barren and cold

They tread on her frozen form

Dancing and laughing

She watches them

She hopes to thaw too

‘She is full of life’ they say

Spring

She cries

Spring is a baby. Quiet cries with the soft rainfall and loud shrieks with the storms. Fresh fragrant new baby smell. Wonder and awe of what is and what will be.

Summer is the teenager with its hot passion, stormy temperament, and carefree attitude. The days are long and feel as if they are invincible and never-ending.

Fall is the middle aged parent enjoying the apples from its trees of labor and fondly reminiscing about summer while its leaves begin to wither and fall.

Winter is the old woman, gray and white with age. Bitter at dreams unfulfilled. Cold from the whipping, icy winds of the world.

Welcome, welcome to the best time of the year. I bring you lots of celebrating and fun. You have all been moaning because the nights are getting longer and now I bring you the joy of more sunshine every day. I bring you snow so you can ski and sled. And frozen water for ice skating. And if you folks never have cold weather, well then I give you a reprieve from the extreme heat of other seasons.

Oh yeah, right, you are so full of yourself. All you do is bring bad weather. It’s so cold plants can’t grow and people are huddled in their houses trying to keep warm. Do you ever think of them? Most animals have to hide away for months to survive. I bring the best weather; warm days and cool nights. The flowers start to bloom and everyone can enjoy the outdoors. They don’t have to artificially warm their houses. Everyone is happy when I arrive. And of course I have the best celebrations!!!

Oh brother, you are so unstable. One day it is nice and warm and then suddenly BAM it’s freezing and all the plants and tree buds that were fooled into popping out die. You confuse everyone. No one knows what to wear; they are either too hot or too cold. And with you arrives the pollen and so many bugs. I of course am the best. I make all the vegetables and fruits grow and ripen. There is so much for everyone to do that we don’t need a lot of made up celebrations; every day is a celebration.

Some fun! What about your weather!? Hurricanes and thunderstorms and tornadoes. So much destruction. Heat and droughts in some areas and floods in others. You make living in some places next to impossible. People hiding in their houses waiting for ME! I bring beautiful colors to the trees and the weather is magnificent. Festivals and celebrations of all kinds; giving thanks to me for bountiful harvests.

Heh heh heh – did you forget about the encroaching darkness and your “unstable” weather? Remember the year you gave some folks a hurricane followed two day later by a huge snowstorm? Hmmm, well I guess we all have our good points and our bad. I hope everyone can find something to look forward to in any season.