The Queen of the seasons had four children, as all the queens of the seasons before her had. She had two boys and two girls and as they grew into maturity they would be bound to rule a quarter of the year each, in turn. They were carefree children and played happily together in their younger years with the strong bond of siblings before they have any responsibilities placed upon them. But as they grew and adulthood beckoned, changes started to show in each child and a distance between them began to grow.
The Queen, knowing that this was the natural and inevitable course of life watched them with both pride and sadness. She too had once been close to her brothers and sisters and remembered still the years of unadulterated play before they were called to their respective duties. The time of transition was filled with both excitement at the beginning of their own destinies, but also sorrow for the loss of such close friendship.
Her youngest son would herald Spring. He was tall and lean with pale hair and an exuberance of energy that would excite sleeping plants to wake and bring fourth new life in flora and fauna alike. His job would be to reignite the world into action, shaking off heavy lids and to raise the siren that the harder months had passed and there was much work to be done.
Her elder son would harness Autumn. He was a strong and sturdy young man with dark auburn hair and darker brown eyes. His job would be to guide the world back into sleep after providing hearty meals of rainbow bright foods from the earth. Decorating the world with golden and ruby colours he would lend the living a sense of comfort before their slumber.
Her youngest daughter would court summer. She was wholesome and strong with straw blond hair, rose in her cheeks and freckles upon her nose. Her job would be to dance with the beauty of all things in the flushed prime of their lives. She would sing with the birds returned from far away climes and bestow gentle sun kisses on the warm air.
Her elder daughter would tend winter. She was petite and pale with jet black hair and eyes to match; beautiful and yet somehow ethereal and untouchable. Her job would be to bring the order that is needed by allowing the passing of the living. Her hands would bring the snow where she waved. Ice would form on the breath from her lips and plants and animals alike would bend low to her gaze and die in the fullness of life’s tale.
The first year of succession passed without trouble as the young apprentices learned under the tutelage of their predecessors. There followed two more years where the world did not notice that the heraldic leaders of the seasons had changed hands and the new dynasty were at the helm. But on the third year of rule by themselves, and another year following, the Queen became aware that something was wrong.
She felt it first, a disturbance in the natural order and when she looked she found that instead of clean and clear distinction between the courts of her children, there was confusion and a bickering had set in amongst them. Then came rumours and overheard bits of gossip and complaint around the kingdom. A courtier was heard to say no-one knew any longer when to plant their crops, that bees had been seen at the turning of the year and birds that should have flown to faraway places, had stayed behind. All living things no longer knew what they should be doing. At last, when in earshot of a particularly fierce argument between her children, the Queen decided she would have to intervene.
She heard Spring shout, “How am I supposed to wake the dormant from sleep, if they have never taken to their beds?”
She heard Autumn shout back, “How am I to tuck them in, if there is nothing to hide them from?”
Summer, never one to raise her voice but perfectly able to be petulant, said, “Well, it’s not my fault. I can’t help it if everyone falls in love with me and so does not heed these changes.”
The Queen waited to hear what her daughter, Winter would say, but her voice was not amongst the cacophony. Leaving the warmer seasons to clash and collide and push the boundaries of each other as far as they dared, she stole away and eventually found her eldest daughter alone and sat amongst the dark green and bright red of a holly tree. Lifting her down and brushing away ice crystals from her cheeks from tears that had fallen and frozen in an instant she asked, “Darling girl, why do you cry? And why are you absent from your siblings?”
Winter threw her arms around her mother and feeling the warmth from another being sobbed until her crying held no more power and she could speak.
“I am hated. I don’t want to rule with fear and yet this is what I bring. Death, decay, endings: this is what I give to the land. People set fires to keep me away; they send prayers for my speedy passing. What good am I, that brings nothing but sadness? My brother Spring brings life and promise. My brother Autumn, gives sustenance and respite. My sister Summer is the most loved of all; beautiful and strong, people cling to her and call for her to stay. People speak my name in whispers as if they can ward off my calling. I am not wanted.”
The Queen’s heart was filled with love and sadness for her eldest daughter and she held her tight before kissing the top of her head. She sat them down, side by side and brushing back the raven black hair from Winter’s eyes she spoke softly and with warmth to her child.
“Yes, your brothers and sister are wanted and they bring to people the things they acknowledge as joyous. But you, my darling girl, you are needed and that is far stronger than desire. You carry the heaviest burden because you carry life. You may think that with your presence you bring endings, but without you, there can be nothing new. A story must always finish or the characters will be left in limbo. The sun must set or the creatures of the night would never have their time. So it is, that the year must end to leave an empty womb for life to begin again. But you bring beauty also for who has not marvelled at a frosted spider’s web or the golden shimmer of sparkling sun on a fresh blanket of snow? The piercing blue skies you paint are as immense as the oceans of the world. You must have faith in yourself and what you can give. You undertake your duties with kindness and a gentleness and do what needs to be done, whether people realise this is what they need or not. They may look upon your siblings with outward favour, but what would those three be without you? They would be lost. We each have a different crown to wear, wear yours with heart knowing you are the only person, who can be you.
That year saw the hardest winter spoken of for generations and the people swore and moaned and longed for its passing. But what followed was a year of unheard of abundance: trees were laden with fruit, farmers cut the biggest yields, honey flowed from hives and life roamed the fertile land. The people praised Spring, Summer and Autumn for the multitude of gifts they brought fourth but did not think at all of the fresh canvas that was given to them by winter. But the Queen thought of her eldest daughter and with pride and gratitude held her hand as they waited for her time to come round again.