What are your own seasons?
Seasons are funny things. If you live in a equatorial region, you may barely experience them at all; if you live in a polar region you probably live part of the year in unremitting darkness which eventually gives way to “white nights”. Living through a heat wave that has gone on for weeks, it can seem impossible that our streets and parks and fields were once covered in snow. Bizarre, even. Yet as we crunch over layers of ice, in that strange silence that comes only after snowfall, it is the sensation of heat and light, of long days and high pressure, that we cannot recapture. No wonder that so many films and novels play with the idea of perpetually cold environments, or create desert planets, or dream up worlds in which the seasons are very different to our own.
I think I’m on pretty safe ground in assuming many…
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