by Mac a'Bhaird

Created on: December 22, 2009

To think that at least in our solar system only our planet is perfectly held in the balance to sustain life. And with the tilt of the axis, this life sustaining ball has these incredible seasons! Spring with blossoming trees buzzing with bees; hot sweltering Summer; colorful Autumn with crisp winds blowing as the leaves, one after another fall to the ground; and finally Winter, bare, cold and dormant, with animals withdrawing into caves and clefts in the rocks to hibernate.

The incredible seasons. Christmas with a fire in the fireplace, and on a walk outside to get another armload of wood with Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Or a 4th of July BBQ next to a swimming pool in the heat of summer, with squealing kids full of antics splashing and getting sillier by the minute! And so distinctly different are the pumpkin patches of October and November- time for harvest colors, festivals and Thanksgiving.

And so incredibly similar are the seasons in a person's life. "To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted", the wise man said.

There's a time to celebrate life; a time to sing happy birthday to a child who just couldn't wait for the day; or perhaps that elderly grandmother that MADE it to the day! Yes! Live for the day. Laugh! Pull a prank! Tell a joke. Plant a garden! Get your hands dirty. Nearby, children play, like the newly formed buds of spring exuding hope; digging in the sandbox or swinging high in the sky, just like we did. I cannot see a child in a swing without thinking of the poem by Robert Louis Stevenson: "How do you like to go up in a swing, Up in the air so blue? Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing, ever a child can do!"

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Summer- a time of heat, work, toil and sweat. The arena of life, making a living, raising a family, keeping the wolf off the front porch. Spring of youth is past- the sweltering sun of mid day shines upon our life

Until the autumn breeze subtily begins to blow. You're not in as much in a hurry any more, the telephone no longer gets answered on the first ring, if it gets answered at all, that is. After all, what are answering machines for? It's time to enjoy the harvest; the fruits of the labor of life. It is rich and full of flavor.

And Winter. I think one is living too fast and frivolously if they don't take the time to ponder their mortality; the winter of their life. Does it not place a

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