"A wind blows another season is near...." hear the call of spring from the sounds of peepers and the cricks of a swaying tree. A greenman fiddler plays his tune evoking the changing seasons. Each season has it's own song. As I write, A cold winter wind blows. I hear the howl of old man winter as frost climbs over the glass. Soon, without fail a wind will carry another season, one with a new song and color.