Four Seasons

Dormant Season Photo: Dorothy McDonall

Winter, dormant season.
Where Mother Nature
Takes her rest,
Waiting for the
Warmth of Spring’s,

Sowing season.
Where Mother Nature
Blossoms bright,
Waiting for the
Heat of Summer’s,

Growing season.
Where Mother Nature
Nurtures all
Waiting for the
Coolness of Fall’s,

Reaping season.
Where Mother Nature
Harvests all
Waiting for the
Dormancy of Winter.


We forget, sometimes, that life goes in cycles.

I am reminded of verses from Ecclesiastes in the Old Testament that tell us “To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under Heaven …”

This truth has held me through many of my most challenging times. It has also taught me there is a purpose to the arc of the cycle in which I find myself — it is preparing me for what’s coming next. And it also tells me that at some point there will be a period of dormancy — the bliss of rest.

Nature’s seasons serve as a powerful metaphor for the cycles in our own lives. Sowing, growing and reaping are popular concepts. However resting, in our stressed society, seems to take a back seat though it is every bit as important. For it is in restfulness, when we are still, that we create and germinate the ideas we’ll sow in our spring, and so on.

It is important to acknowledge the cycle of our own personal four seasons and live a well-balanced life. Our health and welfare, and the kind of  imprint we leave on the world around us, depend upon it.



All rights reserved. Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2011

Spring Flowers

Spring's splendour at the Keukenhof, Holland

Spring's splendour at the Keukenhof Gardens, Holland -- Photo: Dorothy McDonall


Such a happy flower;
Looks cheerful in
An April shower.
In colours bright
From mauve to red
Is splendid in
The flower bed.

Is pretty too.
A golden trumpet
All Spring through.
It bows to wind
And glows ‘neath sun.
In every way
My heart it’s won.

A fragrant crown
It wears amongst
The floral town.
Its petals small
And delicate
Incense the air

Dainty little bloom.
First sign of spring
In my garden room.
Flowers purple,
Yellow, white
Bid fond farewell
To long winter’s night.


It’s mid March and spring is in the air. I can feel it. Though the ground is still snow covered and there’s still the possibility of more of the fluffy white menace, spring’s proximity is betrayed by the earlier dawns and later dusks; by temperatures that creep slowly upward, and by warbling, expectant birds.

And soon, with the burden of frigid days but a memory, the floral garden will appear — a cheerful unveiling that puts the spring back in our steps and fills our grey matter with the resplendent colours, shapes and scents of a new and glorious season.

With the return of tulips, daffodils, crocus and hyacinth the air is lifted and fresh. The hibernating critters awaken and entertain as they scurry back and forth in search of food. Bird song drifts effortlessly through the trees — the neighbourhood is reborn and a collective sigh of relief is expelled — another winter survived.

My imagination is filled with the glory of spring to come.

I love spring flowers.

Dorothy 🙂


Copyright Aimwell Enterprises 2011