We know many Seasons, Stages...Phases. They can be so obvious we can touch them, smell them...identify them like we do with the first snowfall, when the cold air caresess our skin so deeply, so intensely.

But there are Seasons of the Soul...the heart. So abstract at times the storm rages inside unstoppable...unending, everchanging from the swift tenderness to the violent passions, from rage to sweet surrender. Tangible Seasons, always different in intensity. Seasons that are trapped in ink as if time had stopped in that brief second...These are my Seasons...