A healthy man, indeed, is the complement of the seasons, and in winter, summer is in his heart.—"A Winter Walk"
Already, by the first of September, I had seen two or three small maples turned scarlet across the pond, beneath where the white stems of three aspens diverged, at the point of a promontory, next the water. Ah, many a tale their color told!—Walden
And so the seasons went rolling on into summer, as one rambles into higher and higher grass.—Walden
As every season seems best to us in its turn, so the coming of spring is like the creation of Cosmos out of Chaos and the realization of the Golden Age.—Walden
At the end of winter, there is a season in which we are daily expecting spring, and finally a day when it arrives.—Journal, 8 March 1853
Do we detect the reason why we also did not die on the approach of spring?—Journal, 9 April 1856
Each season is but an infinitesimal point. It no sooner comes than it is gone.—Journal, 6 June 1857