She was Summer. She was a warm night under the stars, the scent of campfires and dreams on the breeze. She held on with loving hands, caressing bare skin and tickling memories. She sprinkled her comfort over sad shoulders, touching hearts as she passed by. She was long days at the beach, dancing with joy and freedom. Beside her, darker and comfortable was Autumn.
Autumn was cozy sweaters and hot cups of tea. She drew the warm socks up and flung colourful leaves in the air. She was the first hint of crisp cold. She was the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the promise of loving cuddles. She was the dusk, creeping over the horizon, and the crackle in the fireplace. She teased with the scent of frost in the early morning dark. And she drifted off to sleep, welcoming her colder and quieter sister, Winter.
Winter was made of ice and silence. She was the rose in pale cheeks, and the boots keeping toes warm. She was that sweet silence after a fresh snow. She was the giggles of small children, flinging snow and sliding down hills. She was the dark, lonely fields with memories of animals tracks. She was the angry blizzard keeping people inside. And she was the warm slumbers, piled high with blankets. And when she finally gave one last heave, she made way for her younger sister, Spring.
Spring was the fresh dawn of day. She was the flowers after a rain, blooming brilliant hues. She was the rubber boots covered in mud by the door, and the mittens tossed aside. She was the first glimpse of the grass. She was the first songs of birds, and the clean air, warming everything up. She was the hope that filled the hearts of frozen lives. She was the childs laugh, echoing through a field. She was the first rays of the sun, warming cheeks. And she was the first step to bring back her sister, Summer.
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