This column first ran in 2014:

It’s difficult to say what time of 12 months is best. January is the calm following the vacation hurricane, as daylight incrementally lengthens within the wake of the winter solstice. I relish the snugness of the February cocoon; the primary brave protrusions of erupting crocuses in March, the sun setting, dead center on the western horizon, in perfect balance on the spring equinox; the sudden elongation of sunshine into the evening upon the return of Daylight Saving Time; Easter, when the theological Resurrection enjoys an objective correlative in nature’s rebirth; the blossom bonanza in April; the leafing of trees in early May; the sensible roses, perfumed linden blossoms and lingering daylight deep right into a June night; the peak-summer sultriness of July and August; the hazy, mellow sunlight of September; the explosion of color in October; the moody darkness of Halloween; the inviting warmth of Thanksgiving; the starry wonder of the winter solstice and the luminous rebuttal of Christmas.

Each time of 12 months has something to recommend it, not the least being that every lasts so short a time — yet may be counted on to return again. Variety and continuity — not a nasty deal this cycle of seasons.