As we approach the end of the year here is a traditional poem which nicely sums up the seasons circle.
January- By this fire I warm my hands
February- And with my spade I delve my lands
March- Here I set my seeds to spring
April- And here I hear the birds sing
May- I am light as a bird in the tree top
June- And I take pains to weed my crop
July- With my scythe my mead I mow
August- And here I shear my corn full low
September- With my flail I earn my bread
October- And here I sow my wheat so red
November- At Martinmas I skill my swine
December- And at Christmas I drink red wine
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