My computer room window faces a thick wooded area where day by day I can see the seasons change.  They seem to run into each other faster lately, spring to summer, summer to fall, fall to winter, and back again.  

Spring is, of course, my favorite.  The sun has a special glow and the budding trees seem to smile as they fill in and become sumptuous.  Lisa, our first child, was born in the spring and I remember my oh so young self preparing to become a mother, anticipating the rest of my life.

Summer is, to me, a sensual season.  Everything is full and bursting with life.  The trees try to out-do each other with plump green leaves while grass grows in plush carpets and roses burst through their buds blood red, virgin white and turning our heads with their tempting scent.  

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Autumn is my preparation time.  We call it ‘fall’ because leaves fall from the trees to cover the ground and crunch under foot.  First though, I watch as they slowly lose their verdancy, become red and yellow and finally brown.  Some get to soar on the wind to great heights, and I am sad only for the ones that never leave their perch but fall quickly to Earth with no adventure in between …. very much like life.

The Earth itself is preparing for the silent season, winter, when all seems steeped in death.  The only green remaining are the fir trees, stately and magnificent against the white of winter’s snow.  To me they represent hope that spring will come again.  
Some find happiness in the winter months, skating and skiing and building snow people.  Others, like myself, curl up near the fire, a good book in hand, and count each day until the first crocus pokes its head through the snow.  

I study the seasons diligently as I peer through my window.  The promise of spring, the sumptuousness of summer, the sadness of autumn, and, to me, the barrenness of winter. Yet our daughter, Ilene and our son Chris were both born in autumn, and winter brings many happy holidays, so each season does have its joyous moments for me.   However,  the darker months have become darker and harder for me to bear without my life’s partner.... because one is always a lonely number.

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