For the weekly prompt: Autumn
For as long as I can remember, Autumn has made me think about death. I know I could wax poetic and say that it’s because of the change of seasons, the falling leaves, the trees readying themselves to be renewed come spring, but while all of that may be lovely, it’s got nothing to do with it.
Okay, almost nothing.
Fall is my favourite season. The glorious blaze of the various trees and bushes is spectacular, and the freshness in the air invariably boosts the spring in my step when I go for walks, especially after the heaviness of the summer humidity. Fall makes me feel alive. I look upon all this wondrous gorgeousness and I truly appreciate how fleeting it is. Before long I know the winds will come and blow it all away, leaving only the stark, nakedness of winter. Unerringly, all this makes me wonder how many more Autumns I will be lucky enough to witness in my lifetime.
The trees may come back, but the dying beauty of their individual leaves are as ephemeral as I am.