The colour drains from the hydrangea blooms and leaves rust on the trees. Brambles, small but plentiful, dot the hedgerows. Autumn is sneaking in from the sidelines; still barely perceptible, but gaining momentum.
There are many signs that I am also entering autumn. Colour draining from my hair and my skin rusting here and there. My children preparing to start the next generation.
But, for me, spring and summer are never coming round again, and winter lies a while ahead. At least in this lifetime; who knows what waits after winter ends. Perhaps I’ll have a new spring after all.
There are many signs that I am also entering autumn. Colour draining from my hair and my skin rusting here and there. My children preparing to start the next generation.
But, for me, spring and summer are never coming round again, and winter lies a while ahead. At least in this lifetime; who knows what waits after winter ends. Perhaps I’ll have a new spring after all.
