So many eye-blinking picture books are in fact picture albums, empty of significant content, that it is good to have artistry unadorned, in the service of mood, moment, and surpassingly vibrant views. What "Spring is. . . " or Summer or Autumn or Winter, is not, however, calendar cut-and-dry: summer, for instance, brings "buzzing insects" (and a hapless fisherman fleeing from them), "heat waves" (a heady, heavy champagne sky above a beach and golden pavilions that could be Brighton), and, turning the page, "thunderstorms" sending picnickers, dog, horses scurrying as the lightning above threatens the still glimmer below. Besides the exotically-edged beach there are "foggy days" and especially "endless rain" in winter to remind us of the book's British origin but more than counter-balancing is the tactility of "frost at night," of "ice and snow." The deluxe edition contains four removable posters, unlettered, each four times the size of a page and all eminently displayable, two being almost miraculously incandescent. The stock is heavy, the stitching chancy, but rebinding is feasible and it would be a pity to pass it by at either price.