November always seemed to me the Norway of the year.
In the cold dark days of February, when everything seems dull and lifeless, April is still a long way off. But we can make it seem closer.
September tries its best to have us forget summer.
It was June, and the world smelled of roses. The sunshine was like powdered gold over the grassy hillside.
March on. Do not tarry. To go forward is to move toward perfection. March on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path.