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To me.
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Autumn, is a woman ‘ A Lady Of A Certain Age ‘
Her skins are soft, can be bright and then turns dark – she then spins a glorious blanket for the stars to sparkle and then rest into twinkles.
When she dances, she rustles. Her skirts lift and swirl to make music. Her aura is a magical mix of reds, oranges, yellows and warm browns, her syrup coloured light then mixed, turning this into a potion of peace.
Her woman-child are her trees, she has thought them to let go of their children, mourn for a period but then go underground to the soils, becoming impregnated once again with new babies of nature.
Her music is a mixture of flutes, pipes, harps and pianos. Her breath is neither too hot nor to cold, so I inhale her. She nurtures natures process, she is the bridge, she gently teases us from Summers breastfeeding – one season to another with love.
Summer plays with us, Winter teaches us lessons, Spring invigorates us ….
While Autumn ….. she is the career with streaks of wondrous wisdom about life. She is my teacher, my guru and I listen – with all my senses.
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