Winter has finally showed its face in sunny California. The smell of burning firewood greets me on my afternoon walks. The heating bill is rising as the temperature in my home falls. I’m wearing all my favorite sweaters all day long. Yes, it’s winter in California.

Along with the change in weather comes a change in my mood during these cold months. John Keats described this in his poem The Human Season.

The Human Season


Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
     There are four seasons in the mind of man:
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
     Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
     Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loves
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
     Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
     He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness—to let fair things
     Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.