A good point well made there. What should we call it?Izzy HaveMercy wrote:What about 'spring' then?d00mw0lf wrote:What Ian said!
"Fall" indeed! What a rubbish word.It sounds all jumpy iron spirally wobbly thingy to me
IZ.
What is your favorite Season?
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Izzy HaveMercy
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Pioooing?d00mw0lf wrote:A good point well made there. What should we call it?Izzy HaveMercy wrote:What about 'spring' then?d00mw0lf wrote:What Ian said!
"Fall" indeed! What a rubbish word.
IZ.
IZ.
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Izzy HaveMercy
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Or maybe 'Prime' from the Italian primavera...
IZ.
IZ.
Prime sounds good to me. Sounds like a big robot.
Big robot > little metal spiral.
Big robot > little metal spiral.
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Obviousman
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Sounds too much like bad telly to meIzzy HaveMercy wrote:Or maybe 'Prime' from the Italian primavera...
IZ.
I don't do favourite seasons, eventually i like all (and they're all majorly f**ked up at the mo' anyway
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9while9
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Vote for a season Blast!........James Blast wrote:less creepy crawlies to contend with Keith?scotty wrote:Badlander wrote: Ya bloody goff !
GOFF.........moi?
"An artist is a creature driven by demons. He doesn't know why they choose him and he's usually too busy to wonder why." - William Faulkner
-Me, I'm inspired by my DarkAngel.
-Me, I'm inspired by my DarkAngel.
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James Blast
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k'Off!9while9 wrote:Vote for a season Blast!........
if I get started on my seasonal grumbles this thread is dead
while I'm here - Gothtober
"And when you start to think about death, you start to think about what's after it. And then you start hoping there is a God. For me, it's a frightening thought to go nowhere".
~ Peter Steele
~ Peter Steele
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weebleswobble
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Season 6 - Once More With Feellinglazarus corporation wrote:Season 5 - Spike gets interesting, Alyson Hannigan is at her cutest - what more could you want?
er ... oh right
‎"We will wear some very loud shirts. We will wear some very wrong trousers."
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Ozpat
- From the Lowlands
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Quiff Boy wrote:spring
its the beginning of everything. time for nature to start anew, as it were
the air is lovely and fresh, things have a vividness of colour, the days start getting longer, and its not too hot or too cold
Aye...seconded!
"as we walk on the floodland"
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ormfdmrush
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give me one more season
give me mooooooooooore O-O-O-O
give me mooooooooooore O-O-O-O
Not officially diagnosed (never asked), so make of that what you will, but my mum (a former nurse) is pretty convinced. I think we first noticed when I came off a Sunday League pitch aged about 10 in a not too happy state and found them still that nasty shade of yellowy white half an hour later. Similar story in Judo, but my strange feet just kept me amused once I'd got used to it (small things for my primary school mindDebaser wrote:Reynaud's huh? How long have you had that? I have every sympathy hunn. Mother had that and I have a sneaky suspicion I have early stages.Motz wrote:Autumn. I like the cold, but flippin' Raynaud's makes Winter uncomfy.
).Thankfully I'm not required to do PE any more, so I'm not in many situations of extreme cold. Playing Squash with gloves on was always a fun one to try and explain (And indeed to pull off
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markfiend
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lazarus corporation wrote:Season 5 - Spike gets interesting, Alyson Hannigan is at her cutest - what more could you want?
er ... oh right
Genius.The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.
—Bertrand Russell
—Bertrand Russell
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Spiggy's hat
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Fall/Autumn for me.
I think it goes back to my mid teens, in the mid 80's, when at this time of year everyone seemed to be touring the University circuit. It was/is probably a marketing tool based on students having a grant to spend at this time of year.
Many a happy night was spent traveling from Batley/Dewsbury to the big exciting city of Leeds, to see The Sisters/Spear/m*****n/Godfathers/Neph and many, many others of that era, at the Poly or Uni.
This time of year always reminds me of those happy days. I was taking the rubbish out last night, and just got that crisp cold feel on my face, and had to have a little smile.
I think it goes back to my mid teens, in the mid 80's, when at this time of year everyone seemed to be touring the University circuit. It was/is probably a marketing tool based on students having a grant to spend at this time of year.
Many a happy night was spent traveling from Batley/Dewsbury to the big exciting city of Leeds, to see The Sisters/Spear/m*****n/Godfathers/Neph and many, many others of that era, at the Poly or Uni.
This time of year always reminds me of those happy days. I was taking the rubbish out last night, and just got that crisp cold feel on my face, and had to have a little smile.
Give me one good reason
Spring for me. I have it hard to decide for spring or autumn. Temperatures are moderate, there is a lot of movement in the athmosphere which produces interesting clouds..
..There was my big doggy which had a thick and very warm fur, which made walks in summer rather uninteresting, as it was too warm..As soon as the temperatures dropped under 15° C the walks became non-stop parties. My doggess never got bothered to act appropriate to her age.
..There was my big doggy which had a thick and very warm fur, which made walks in summer rather uninteresting, as it was too warm..As soon as the temperatures dropped under 15° C the walks became non-stop parties. My doggess never got bothered to act appropriate to her age.
"These are my principles! And if you don't like the just says so, I have others, too!"
~Rufus T. Firefly
~Rufus T. Firefly
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Michael aka Emilien
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Winter... indeed 
Michael aka Emilien @ My Opera Community: http://my.opera.com/michael_aka_emilienmarkfiend wrote:I didn't compose it, I don't even remember how good it is.
Michael aka Emilien @ My Space Community: http://myspace.com/michael_aka_emilien
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markfiend
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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, -
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.
—Bertrand Russell
—Bertrand Russell
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Michael aka Emilien
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You're GOD indeed, markfiend:))))))))
Michael aka Emilien @ My Opera Community: http://my.opera.com/michael_aka_emilienmarkfiend wrote:I didn't compose it, I don't even remember how good it is.
Michael aka Emilien @ My Space Community: http://myspace.com/michael_aka_emilien
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Brideoffrankenstein
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Hopefully if I remember my A-level English that was Keats wasn't it? 
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9while9
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Brideoffrankenstein wrote:Hopefully if I remember my A-level English that was Keats wasn't it?
Yes.
Title: To Autumn
By: John Keats
Paints a wonderful picture in your mind.....
I wonder which season Markfiend voted for......
"An artist is a creature driven by demons. He doesn't know why they choose him and he's usually too busy to wonder why." - William Faulkner
-Me, I'm inspired by my DarkAngel.
-Me, I'm inspired by my DarkAngel.
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markfiend
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That reminds me: I didn't actually vote yet!
Done now.
Done now.
The fundamental cause of the trouble is that in the modern world the stupid are cocksure while the intelligent are full of doubt.
—Bertrand Russell
—Bertrand Russell
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Purple Light
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Winter. Cold & fresh.
“I got lost in the mirror, wondering what could have been, I couldn’t help but kill her, but I couldn’t kill the dream.”