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I admitted I was not. I was slogging through leaf-infested water puddles and being blown by the wind. It was quite delightful.
























Mother Nature, like Father Time, will move at her own pace. I complained that the leaves had not turned to reds as well as yellows. They hadn’t. Then. It’s the end of November and look what pleasures she has wrought.



Autumn is a lovely season with generously colored leaves gracing the crowns of trees.
Autumnal implies a weathered maturity.
It is also in the lexicon of sadness, where it suggests regrets over the changing seasons.




Before the Fall can decry an end to warm weather and revelry, it decorates our environs.
Somewhere in there, our man-made decorations creep in as we celebrate a pagan holiday.



Leaves, in pretty colors, fall to the ground, and with the nip in the air, define an end to summer.


Yellow appears, now just
Blanketing the crown of
The tree like the white
Covers my crown; soon the
Yellow leaves will overrun
The green and then drop
As the temperature does