Fall is one of my favorite seasons of the year. There are three others, but they will come in due time. And that's the point. I love every season, and fortunately I am usually getting tired of one just when it's time for the next to burst on the scene with all its magnificent uniqueness.
Dappled floral carpet, speckled canopy, unduplicated palette, breathless beauty, crisp air, forgotten smells wafting up to fill the nostrils and transport me to tranquil ecstasy. Count the colors underfoot and get lost in matchless beauty. Verdant, azure, rouge, and amber. Orange, sienna, royal purple, and baby pink. Green merging with yellow, outlined in black and brown. While the squirrel scampers out of reach, jaws packed with winter's nourishment, to sit on the out stretched limb chattering her displeasure at my disrupting presence.
Sit by the babbling brook watching the slender minnows dart to and fro or hold their positions in the never-still water. The sun sparkles on the rushing surface as the gentle breeze shifts the leaves to yield a cinema of light and shadow. How did that moss manage to fasten itself to that slippery rock? Doesn't that leaf on the low hanging branch tirelessly sipping from crystal nectar ever quench its thirst?
If I'm still long enough the chipmunks accept my admiration and continue their tasks as if I belong in their world. Little feet scurrying noiselessly from gnarled stump to piles of gray, lichened twigs, one eye upward, ever cautious. Out of the corner of my eye a doe, twitching ears, flickering tail, with fawn in tow, stealthily tiptoes, nibbling as she goes.
Clouds, sun, wind, and muted silence enfold me in the bosom of Mother Earth. What lessons this world has to teach me !
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