“Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon? ~Hal Borland
While I love the colors of Autumn, specifically October, I think what endears my heart the most is it teaches me the continuity of life. I see the beauty in maturity and death, and the hope of another cycle.
When I witness the brazen burst of color upon a subdued landscape I feel as if I’ve come home; I see in nature what I feel inside.
Jeweled trees dancing in the breeze and the crunch and rustle of leaves beneath my feet awaken the gypsy within me.
No matter where that road may be it always seems to be calling me home.
I find myself on that familiar path of home, the one tugging on my heart.
The mountains whisper my name, their messages traveling in the wind until I answer.
I settle into the soft hues of the meadows I call my own, and I am content.