The Beauty of the Seasons
In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. As the light creeps
over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps of purplish cloud
trail over them. In summer the nights. Not only when the moon shines, but on
dark nights too, as the fireflies flit to and fro, and even when it rains, how
beautiful it is!
In autumn the evenings, when the glittering sun sinks close to the edge
of the hills and the crows fly back to their nests in threes and fours and
twos; more charming still is a file of wild geese, like specks in the distant
sky. When the sun has set, one’s heart is moved by the sound of the wind and
the hum of the insects.
In winter the early mornings. It is beautiful indeed when snow has
fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost; or even
when there is no snow or frost, but it is simply very cold and the attendants hurry from
room to room stirring up the fires and bringing charcoal, how well this fits the
season’s mood! But as noon approaches and the cold wears off, no one bothers to keep the
braziers alight, and soon nothing remains but piles of white ashes.
