No matter how many times I try to deny it, every time the fall season begins--and it's not even quite here yet--it still leaves me breathless.
The wintertime has its quiet; the spring, its new beginnings; the summer, its lackadaisical determination; but the fall-time is still the only sexybeast that can quell my moodiness.
Slowly, then all at once in its full glory, it reassures me that life really is masterful. It reminds me of how truly intense the mind is and how deeply layered the heart can be.
What was once familiar, turned on its side, has infinite possibilities.
It sure has been a long year, but it's good to know the beginning of the end is upon us.
Yes, autumn is kind of like a firefall.
The wintertime has its quiet; the spring, its new beginnings; the summer, its lackadaisical determination; but the fall-time is still the only sexybeast that can quell my moodiness.
Slowly, then all at once in its full glory, it reassures me that life really is masterful. It reminds me of how truly intense the mind is and how deeply layered the heart can be.
What was once familiar, turned on its side, has infinite possibilities.
It sure has been a long year, but it's good to know the beginning of the end is upon us.
Yes, autumn is kind of like a firefall.