October.
Autumn.
This is it.
Give anyone a summer sunset, and they will tell you it's beautiful. Give them an autumn sunset, and it will leave them breathless. Birds darting across an open sky, a giant canvas painted without line, only colour. Pinks, reds, oranges, lilacs, and someone dabbed on some navy's and deep purples to make fluffy clouds. Hiding places for the birds games.
And then there is the sun. Low, making the hills glow like the embers of a dying fire. Everything in the distance is only silhouettes - not because it’s dark, it may still be relatively light – but just because the sun takes over the skyline and nothing else is quite as beautiful or important. And the sun sinks, burying itself, and drowning in the hills, until all you can see, is the last light dancing through the gaps in the branches of bare trees and naked hedgerows.
You can't beat a walk in the park in autumn. The sun is shining, but you still have to wrap up warm. Coats, scarves, gloves, and those silly looking hats that you can't help but laugh at. Jeans and warm padded boots. You run, being chased by crisp brown leaves, covering your shoes, gripping to your clothes, and stuck to your hair, trapped, unable to escape. And you don't care, the sun, the blue sky, the white clouds, the rain, the rainbow. And the laughter. The genuine smiles and laughter. The kind that only, that classic autumn day brings.
People rave about summer, the sun and the beach. They love the snow in winter. They think that spring is new and beautiful.
For me, this is it. Bring on the first frost. Get me started on my autumn.
I don't blog, I write.
Just, Me.
This is it.
Give anyone a summer sunset, and they will tell you it's beautiful. Give them an autumn sunset, and it will leave them breathless. Birds darting across an open sky, a giant canvas painted without line, only colour. Pinks, reds, oranges, lilacs, and someone dabbed on some navy's and deep purples to make fluffy clouds. Hiding places for the birds games.
And then there is the sun. Low, making the hills glow like the embers of a dying fire. Everything in the distance is only silhouettes - not because it’s dark, it may still be relatively light – but just because the sun takes over the skyline and nothing else is quite as beautiful or important. And the sun sinks, burying itself, and drowning in the hills, until all you can see, is the last light dancing through the gaps in the branches of bare trees and naked hedgerows.
You can't beat a walk in the park in autumn. The sun is shining, but you still have to wrap up warm. Coats, scarves, gloves, and those silly looking hats that you can't help but laugh at. Jeans and warm padded boots. You run, being chased by crisp brown leaves, covering your shoes, gripping to your clothes, and stuck to your hair, trapped, unable to escape. And you don't care, the sun, the blue sky, the white clouds, the rain, the rainbow. And the laughter. The genuine smiles and laughter. The kind that only, that classic autumn day brings.
People rave about summer, the sun and the beach. They love the snow in winter. They think that spring is new and beautiful.
For me, this is it. Bring on the first frost. Get me started on my autumn.
I don't blog, I write.
Just, Me.
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