Yesterday, in terms of Autumn’s feel, was absolutely perfect.
The streak of clouds, poured across the sky like the broad brush stroke of a careless painter gave my surroundings a blue-grey tint. Every surface reflected this color, providing the illusion that the world had become cool to the touch, and welcoming one to take part in all of its activities.
The dark, backlit profile of barren trees on thready, silvery sky was the epitomy of fall, sealing the death of summer and welcoming the white blanketing of the upcoming winter.
Autumn has come like a silent thief, steadling in to take summer away and usher in Winter’s shivering, and now Autum’s own time is waning, and that silent, neutrally apathetic march towards winter is merely a breath away.
I love this time of year. The temperature is perfect, the colors and contrasts are divine, and the world seems inviting through its slow, quiet march towards frigidity.
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