Measure of the year

Keats once wrote that ‘Four Seasons fill the measure of the year’
and that there are ‘There are four seasons in the mind of man‘

As I approach the one year mark of my emigration 486 miles north to the San Francisco Bay area. I increasingly
feel the need to document the Human Seasons that I see through my lens.

I see spring in the couples that woo in Dolores Park
I see summer in the in the music festivals and street fairs of San Francisco
I see fall in the yellowing redwood trees of Berkeley.
I see winter in the eyes of souls who roam the Tenderloin.

The Human Seasons – John Keats (1875)

Four Seasons fill the measure of the year;
There are four seasons in the mind of man
He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He has his Summer, when luxuriously
Spring’s honied cud of youthful thought he loved
To ruminate, and by such dreaming high
Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness–to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.
He has his Winter too of pale misfeature,
Or else he would forego his mortal nature.