z

Young Writers Society


12+

The Seasons

by JoyDark


I have met the seasons. They come every year, at the same times, like clockwork. And for some reason, they choose me to talk to.

Perhaps they are lonely. Perhaps they simply need a place to recount their thoughts, like a diary, and so they chose me. To this day, I don't know why. Perhaps there is a secret meaning to it all I do not understand, cannot understand.

I shouldn't choose favorites, but I enjoy talking to Autumn. He is gentle and his manners are soft, smooth. He is always polite, never intrusive, and he has a melancholy air about him, as if he is still mourning the passage of someone who died months ago. He muses about many things, and after I talk to him my heart feels slightly opened, like a flower whose petals are spreading to embrace the cool, gentle air. When I am with Autumn, I feel as if I grow wiser, as if I have opened the doors of my heart to the universe. I never grow tired of talking to him. If anything, he grows weary of talking to me. He can act almost as an aging man, pondering life as it passes him by.

Autumn is about change. With him, I come to accept the passage of time. When I talk to Winter, I feel stagnant. As if I am trapped in an ice floe, hidden from the sun and the stars. Winter does not muse. He is like stone, a statue that stands as a sentry, guarding castle gates against any sort of hardship or misfortune. Winter talks to me about Summer. He complains about Summer always, muttering in his brusque voice. He complains that Summer has too much power. That he steals the cold from the earth, which gives the life of the world a much-needed rest. He praises himself and hurls insults at Summer every day, and I barely find the patience and willpower to keep my ears open.

Spring is different. She does not moan like Winter, or ponder like Autumn. She is always busy. She comes to me and shares stories of the new babes in the forest, or the blossoming of the cherry trees, or the showers that drench the ground. She is full of chatter. And some days, I enjoy it. It takes my mind off life outside of the seasons, and pulls me into the beauty of nature and renewal. I can enjoy the stories that she tells me, and rejoice at every new bud that blooms. But on some days, her chatter grows tiring. Those are the days that the rest of my life weighs me down until I feel as if I am underground. I cannot and do not wish to see the splendor of Spring then, no matter how much she talks.

Summer is boisterous, and even more energetic that Spring. He shouts like a maniac from the roof of buildings, and he invites me to howl with him. He makes adrenaline flow through my body as easily as blood. We do not talk as much as go on adventures, outrunning thunderstorms and hurling ourselves into pools. If we do ever stop to talk, he tells me stories that make me burst out laughing along with him. He always laughs at his own jokes, and he praises himself as well, pointing out trees brimming with strong green leaves and congratulating himself after particularly rambunctious thunderstorms or sweltering days.

They are days I love being with Summer. My stomach aches from laughing and my feet hurt from running, but I feel alive. And yet, sometimes Summer fills up too much space around him. I have heard the other seasons complain of his actions, breaking through the bonds of his season to spread heat waves through Autumn, or stop the rains in Spring. And of course Winter has more than enough to say about him. When I ask Summer about these remarks, he just smiles and throws the question to the side.

Perhaps he knows what he is doing: spreading his influence across the world, converting all of the seasons slowly into images of himself. And perhaps people will be okay with that, for a while. After all, as I have found, Summer is like a heated disco ball, hanging in the sky and letting everyone feel its light and music; and many people, in return, begin to dance, and have fun. But as much as I enjoy my time talking to Summer, I cannot deny my love for the other seasons. Spring brings forth the first delicate warmth from Winter, coaxing birds to hatch out of their eggs and encouraging growth from the tiniest saplings. Winter is robust and strong, putting the world into sleep, cooling us completely. And Autumn--how can I forget Autumn? He is the one who leads you back to Winter, into hibernation, and in the process brings you gifts of color from the trees along the way. He is the one who calms Summer down. He is the transition from Summer to the heart of Winter. He is the one who takes you step by step through your life as you prepare for the next stage.

Summer might take them all away. Spring, Winter, and Autumn. Or he may drain them so that they are no longer what they once were.

And so today I take all the time I can to talk to the seasons. I breathe in their words and try to ingrain them in my heart. I do not know why they picked me to talk to. But I will make the most of it, before it is too late.


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11 Reviews


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Reviews: 11

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Fri Apr 24, 2020 12:55 pm
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diphylleia wrote a review...



dear Lia
I find in your words a lot of peace and joy. I am fascinated with your style of description and with your imagination who created this connection between you and the seasons.
I disagree with you in one and only little point, it's that the summer who complains about the winter:) Winter is coming always not to end the warmth but to add a fresh air, a beauty with rain and snow. adding to that, I believe that there is nothing more warm than the morn after a rainy night.
I just wanted to share with you my thoughts. I, as I said before, enjoyed your writing so much. I am glad to know you all in this creative and magnificent site.
Be fine and save :)




JoyDark says...


Thank you so much! Really. I made summer start to encroach on the other seasons to symbolize global warming. It seems like Summer, to me, just wants to fill up all the space around him, even breaking the boundaries of his own season. That%u2019s why I made him affect the other seasons. Also, Summer didn%u2019t complain about Winter. Winter complained about Summer. All. The. Time. :D



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91 Reviews


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Thu Apr 23, 2020 12:16 am
MoonIris says...



I really like the story! I think it’s great. Perhaps the way the seasons behave it’s the way we feel during them. The way you said (in a way or another) that the seasons need each other made me think of ing and yung. I hope you write more stories that are this poetic because they are worth telling!




JoyDark says...


Thank you, really! I'm glad you liked it. Do you think the actual writing was okay? Not the story, just the writing itself? I was wondering if you had any suggestions for that. Because honestly, something about it I feel like I could have done better on... or maybe that's just me. :D



MoonIris says...


I think the writing is good. Maybe you used %u2018perhaps%u2019 one or two times to much. It%u2019s easy to read and had a great mix of vocabulary. You describe a lot the seasons and I think I would like to know more about how the character feels. Hope it helped and I think you%u2019ve donne an amazing job%uD83D%uDC4D



MoonIris says...


sorry for the % and numbers...Hope you still understand



JoyDark says...


Yeah, trust me, I completely get the %s and numbers. Thank you, really. I get why you'd say I used "perhaps" too many times. :D



MoonIris says...


%uD83D%uDC4D



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34 Reviews


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Wed Apr 22, 2020 9:59 pm
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shayspeare wrote a review...



Is this a poem?

This feels like an epic poem. And by that, I don't mean Epic, as in Sophocles and Homer, but it feels like it's not a poem, but it's very poetic.

You have symbolism, and it's very beautiful. You humanize the seasons. You talk about them as if they were people. And it's just -- gosh -- I love it. There's something very free-spirited in the tone. It's amazing.

You have a lot of talent. I could see this being a great literary work. It could be literary fiction.

So, I give my best to you.

Have fun writing these days.

Shay.




JoyDark says...


Thanks, really. :D It's not a poem, but I was trying to be poetic.



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Wed Apr 22, 2020 7:26 am
BhavyaMehta123 wrote a review...



Hi! This was really good! The personification of all the seasons was done perfectly.I just felt these seasons are your friends whom you are talking to. You are really observant and creative. Also, I am nature lover so I had a great time reading your work. Indeed, you have done a great job.
Through this you even taught me a lesson that every season has its own beauty and flaws and so is in all human beings and that must be embraced. Also, those last lines that spring, winter and autumn are no longer what they used to be. That is so true. This was a lovely piece of work
All the best for your future works and keep writing!
From: Bhavya




JoyDark says...


Thank you, really! That was my goal, make them like old friends. I tried to personify them as I tend to get feelings with them, but I'm sure other interpretations of the seasons' personalities will be different. Thank you for your review. :D





Most Welcome! :)



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Wed Apr 22, 2020 6:15 am
Tawsif wrote a review...



You've been admiring my works lately. This time it's my turn to admire yours.

This was a really well-thought figurative story. I was fascinated by the way you have personalized the seasons in this story. It was thought-provoking and definitely enjoyable.

"Pehaps there is a secret meaning to it all I do not understand, cannot understand."

Maybe you should write: ".....a secret meaning to it all that I do not understand." (Though I'm not sure about the grammar here)

"It takes my mind off my life outside of the seasons, and pulls me into the beauty of nature and renewal."

The use of two 'my's back to back seems slightly awkward to me. I think you can reword this, though it's just a personal suggestion.

"Those are the days that the rest of my life weighs me down until I feel as if I am underground. I cannot and do not wish to see the splendor of Spring then, no matter how much she talks."

I totally understood what you meant here, and I was touched. Wonderful words!

"After all, as I have found, Summer is like a heated disco ball, hanging in the sky and letting everyone feel its light and music; and many people, in return, begin to dance, and have fun."

Another figurative sentence that implicitly indicates climate change and how people are careless about it. I loved this line!

"He is the transition from that season to the heart of winter."

Why don't you write "transition from Summer to the heart of Winter", since you've addressed all the seasons personally everywhere else?

This could've been passed on a fantastical story about the seasons, but the way you described the influence of Summer and implicitly mentioned Climate Change was exceptional. But I'd also suggest you to edit the ending a bit, make it more like a paragraph that says how you talk to seasons to stop the influence of Summer. But it's your story, you can keep as it is. It's still a wonderful one to read.

I feel like the time I spent to read this was all worthwhile.

KEEP WRITING (AND ADMIRING MY WORKS!!!).




JoyDark says...


Thank you so, so much! Really. Your advice is good. I think I'll keep the ending, but other stuff you mentioned I'll definitely change. I will keep admiring your work as well! :D



Tawsif says...


That's great!




What will live longer, you or your words? Something to think about the next time you abandon a project...
— Omni