Fall is noisy and crunchy scattered like butter brickle across the pan of earth.
Fall is the song of crickets belying a firm daring soon to be buried in snow.
Fall is that older friendship that takes you to the attic for a fuzzy plaid throw.
Fall is the angle of sun catching another oblique to show forgotten shape.
Fall is shivers of thought and the respite in reflection before a scalloped landscape.
Fall is careless and fickle shoving its changes such that you can barely foresee.
Fall is a quick reminder that the year is near behind and you are in act three.
Thoughtful lines, and a beautiful photo. Lots to think about here
ReplyDeleteOne post has us missing summer and the other has us looking forward to act 3:-)
ReplyDeleteAm I crackling as I crawl toward act three. Probably. First showers of fall here, and the wrecks cover our roads as if they were falling leaves.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful picture, and the lines go with it, fabulous.
ReplyDeleteI like the shivers of thought line alot! Nifty! Thank for that link -
ReplyDeleteI won't update my blog just to make the links easier
Butter brickle -- exactly!
ReplyDelete