Spring is the time of the year when it is summer in the sun and winter in the shade

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

Spring passes and one remembers one's innocence.
Summer passes and one remembers one's exuberance.
Autumn passes and one remembers one's reverence.
Winter passes and one remembers one's perseverance.

Those who left us in winter are still within reach, they are the sizzle of summer and the floret of spring.

...I hear the sounds of melting snow outside my window every night and with the first faint scent of spring, I remember life exists...

The year was dying early, the leaves were falling fast, it was a raw cold day when we took possession, and the gloom of the house was most depressing. The cook (an amiable woman, but of a weak turn of intellect) burst into tears on beholding the kitchen, and requested that her silver watch might be delivered over to her sister (2 Tuppintock’s Gardens, Liggs’s Walk, Clapham Rise), in the event of anything happening to her from the damp. Streaker, the housemaid, feigned cheerfulness, but was the greater martyr. The Odd Girl, who had never been in the country, alone was pleased, and made arrangements for sowing an acorn in the garden outside the scullery window, and rearing an oak.