As the autumn twilight closes in, and the chilly weather becomes evermore unbearable, the empty sense of an end, a loss rather than an accomplishment, seems to instil sadness within everything.
Winter is coming and another year has left. The new one is closer to the indeterminate future. Where will I be going? How will I get there? The sky is dark and the air is cold.
Yet, look around, aren’t the leaves yellow and magenta, and every shade of gold? Beauty stays, though time has fled. And when the leaves are done falling, snowflakes will begin to play their role.