During summer everything is alive. The rain allows long-forgotten seedlings to flourish. The typical yellowed landscape makes way to an almost Irish greenery. Before you eyes the changes awaken new life in every living thing. The animals become livelier; the people happier.
For a while all is good and awake. But like all good things, it recedes with the same mystery as its arrival. The days gradually become shorter, until one day it appears to sleep as much as the inhabitants.
The lushness, like the sun, fades to its dry, brittle self. New growth becomes sparse, and the wildlife leaner. Hardships begin to arise, and with it the redder emotions of the human species. Aggression, frustration and anger are the meals of the season.
With shorter days comes the distancing of the sun. Its departure carries with it the heat, the passion, and the joy. It is during these times that people show their strength to persevere. This is when we survive.
It is the winters, not the summers, which allow for real growth. Organisms use no thought or gumption when the living’s easy, when all components of survival are in easy reach. Winter, on the other hand, is what separates the hardy from the frail.
It is that ability to survive the cold, the dry, the lonely, which makes our roots stronger. When we can soften those reds, and allow ourselves to survive the winter, that we truly become our strongest.