Autumn.
The third season.
The year has settled down and the world smiles mildly as it sees that the time for tranquility has come. Yet the warmth of summer doesn't want to let winter get its way yet. The heat and the cold in their fight create storms, leaves whirling, clouds growing an angry purple, raining down on the soil for the last time and threatening the trees with lightning. But the storms pass, the rain dries away and though the cold nips at our hands we mostly feel warmth and comfort of our home, our family. The leaves have bright and spectacular colours, yet they are lifeless, beauty in death. Autumn sees both sides, chooses which is most favourable in the situation and goes on from there. On the inside there are the storms but on the outside there is a whole, a process, a calm. Without summer and winter autumn would fall down but autumn does not show it's dependency, rather it tries to combine both powers as good as possible. Summer and winter. Warm and cold. Peace and passion.
Autumn is the mediating season.
Donatello is autumn.