Searing furnace of summer, fall is so melancholy with it's dropping of seeds from dead muted plants and trees, the bitter winter can feel like an abusive husband, but even bad things have a beautiful purpose of enhancing our appreciation of good things. Scorched and burnt, brown and decaying, brutal and frozen, and we know through all of this, there will always be a flourishing season of newborn offspring, a vibrancy of buds and blooms, and a carpet of chartreuse under our bare feet.