The Waltz of the Seasons

Waltz of the Seasons

Written by Tania Giorgetta

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Summer days roll into winter nights. The seasons dance and tease, playing an alluring game of tug of war. Delighting onlookers with a brazen display of power and strength, each season takes its turn on centre stage.

The sun beats down daring the plants to survive. The Earth cracks and groans under the oppressive heat. A blood orange ball in the sky is a constant reminder of daybreak and all that it stands for; life and death.

As days tick by, the leaves crinkle and change to browns, yellows and rusty hues. The Earth cools and exhales an audible sigh. The air contracts and animals crawl out from the shade. A cool breeze tickles the trees and encourages the rusty leaves to fall from the branches.

Soon the trees become barren and stark, their silhouettes dramatic against the crystal blue backdrop. It’s as if someone is sifting icing sugar down from a large hole in the sky as the branches become frosted and turn white. Temperatures drop. Harshness prevails. The weak die and the feeble freeze; shivering and huddled together.

Then, when it looks like all is dead, like the Earth has come to a grinding stop, there is a rustle in the bushes. A baby chick pokes his head out and looks around, yellow and fuzzy and looking for trouble. Babies, babies everywhere. Playing and dancing and discovering their legs. Flowers bloom in vivid reds, purples and pinks. Leaves start to shoot as the Earth is reborn.

* * *

I reach for the blanket at the end of my bed and am reminded that the seasons are rolling by.

Mother Nature and Father Time are intertwined in each other’s arms, laughing and spinning on the dance floor.

The clock is ticking. The sun shines, leaves change, babies are born and blankets are pulled up as we all spin round and round. Summer days roll into winter nights as we dance the Waltz of the Seasons.


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