A Season Of Perfection

December 20, 2007
By Laurence Droy, Nearest: Bristol, ZZ

To the defiance of summer and the joyous observation of all human kind, the blood red baubles hanging from every bush, lighten our lives throughout the autumn season. The autumn cloaks of gold and red delicately adorn the mourning trees, statues of sad beauty to inspire a wistful adoration in the casual passers by.

The charitable wind softy spreads her falling leaves, gently sifting until all is covered by its colourful offerings. The world makes its parting gift to the summer, expelling the buds of spring with a send-off to rival that of their bursting into being.

The misty mornings veil all in a hovering cloud, obscuring beauteous nature until the sun's shining presence can applaud and enhance it. The evening horizon seeks to rival the glowing sun framing the golden trees, both bright and dark, silhouetted against the fire and light.

Yet , one day the leaves are all fallen , the soft wind turns to icy gale, silver frost covers the frozen ground. The bare trees sit in stillness, elegant yet unmoving in their dignity. Morning brings not gold but glass, flawless crystal glinting gently on every surface.

Autumn is over winter is here.

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