In the depth of winter, I discovered an invisible summer within me. As the snow covers the fields and hills with a white quilt, the children gather around a warm fire listening to stories. Scents of roasted chestnuts, firewood, and winter stews arise and fill up the crisp air.

In the breezy spring, the moon hangs like a balloon held by a child that knows poems by heart. Everything seems so youthful and green. Lovers leave traces of footsteps on the grass. All nature awakens, and trees are stretching their branches. A honey-sweet scent of flowers arises and fills up the refreshing air.

In the rising winds of Autumn, leaves are dancing wildly. The mornings are crisp and golden. Children begin to carve pumpkins. The dinner table, just like the fields, is covered in brown sugar and cinnamon. The air is ripe with the pleasant, dewy petrichor of the afternoon rain.

Is there gold more precious than the sunlight during summer? People lay on the grass under trees, listening to the sounds of the water. Vibrant reds of juicy watermelons and cherries decorate the gardens and kitchen tables. People watch the clouds float across the blue sky and the golden sunset melting in the ocean.