The landscape emerges from its slumb’ring repose And life is restored through the glistening snows Spring’s rains trickle down through soil to the roots Feeding buds on the trees and awakening shoots The soft, warm drizzle of those summer days Gently brushing my skin in its gossamer haze Trapped by the leaves, in droplets they run Reviving my senses in the warmth of the sun As the woodland turns hues of golden and red The strong winds of autumn buffet clouds o’erhead The deluge pours down, churning foliage and clay And leaves yield the scent of mouldering decay Winter’s icy rains lashing desolate hills Gushing in torrents, amid crippling chills As cold dark days mark the passing of time Nature seeks comfort in restful recline