In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature.

In a way winter is the real spring, the time when the inner things happen, the resurge of nature.

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's read more

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence. Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance. Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence. Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.

Ah! well away!
Seasons flower and fade.

Ah! well away!
Seasons flower and fade.

Spring is nature's way of saying, "Let's party!"

Spring is nature's way of saying, "Let's party!"

Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'

Spring is nature's way of saying, 'Let's party!'

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn.

Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'

Spring is God's way of saying, 'One more time!'

Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the read more

Indoors or out, no one relaxes in March, that month of wind and taxes, the wind will presently disappear, the taxes last us all the year.