My Way of Living + Light

Say it isn’t so… the golden tinged gingko leaves are almost gone. Blown away piece by piece by the harsh November winds, and mingling with the red of the maple, they paper the sidewalk with color. Nothing says Winter is coming, more then bare branches. Here one day, barren the next. Brazenly reaching out towards the grey clouds, as if asking for more time to bask in the sun. Denied, not to be, go to sleep. Spring come back quick, and stay awhile this time around please.