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| Winter and summer each have their own beauty. Summer�s is lively and rosy-cheeked, a pretty, young girl. Winter�s is austere, a majestic, regal woman. For me it is winter which is the greater. It seems more romantic, as if there is an age old tale to tell, if only we could speak the right language. There is a sense of unbroken pride. Snow falls for her soft carpet and she lives quietly in her icy palace. Only now and then does she rail against her misfortune with storms and hail, but for the most part she sadly exists. While everyone waits for summer to arrive. | ||