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 honey’d 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.Keats
I painted this without reference to the poem which I thought of long after the painting was completed…
I was still in the mind set of my previous paintings of Queen Anne’s Lace, and was thinking that even at this time of year they still have beauty and continue to inspire me through every change of season… Serendipity….
Watercolour and Derwent Pencil on Board..Toronto, Ontario, Canada..