Friday, October 17, 2014

Spate


My lashes raise the curtain to a dazzling composition, a masterful and magical palette of color; the morning sun as she rises spotlighting each player on the stage, illuminating to gleaming transparency each blushing blade.


Its my favorite weather for running:  Cool, crisp, with a touch of damp; mottled pavement not quite toweled off from last nights shower.  Pulling over my head an extra-long sleeved shirt, anchoring my thumbs in its loopholes, I lace my shoes; I head outdoors.

 
Abundant rainfall flushes exceptionally brilliant hues across each leaf in layered complexity, branches teeming, overly ripe and pregnant, anxious to drop their bounty.


Matted foliage dots the ground courtesy of a free float from the boughs above, releasing upon the rustling of my footfalls an unmistakably nuanced scent announcing the onset of sweet decay.


Who knew my neighborhood is fraught with such exquisite and explosive beauty? 


Yours is, too. Autumns swan song is now playing a limited engagement just outside your door, courtesy of Mother Nature. Make time to take it in while you can.

No comments:

Post a Comment