A Time of Color
Fall when there is a glow from the golden light in the sky, to the hills painted in reds and orange and yellows.
The colors lick up the mountainside, like flames climbing to the top, without heat.
There is a change coming, sometimes quick, sometimes slow.
There is a spice in the air that only appears at this time. The smells of leaves and crispness with the foreshadowing of white stuff soon to come.
The colors lick up the mountainside, like flames climbing to the top, without heat.
There is a change coming, sometimes quick, sometimes slow.
There is a spice in the air that only appears at this time. The smells of leaves and crispness with the foreshadowing of white stuff soon to come.
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