October 12, 2008

Words are replaced by senses, taking over where thoughts once resided. Crisp snapping of leaf edges as I walk over them, a painter's palette of color spilled everywhere, a fluid chill sliding around the sunlight, a stillness hanging in the air like a lullaby. I could stand at the edge of this season forever, easily slipping into step with its well worn melody.

© All images and artwork are copyright of the artist and may not be reproduced in any way without permission.