Dead leaves are scattered across my path,
like it’s recently been snowing scrunched brown paper,
the crumpled flakes of gold and yellow browns crunch under my soles as I make my way through the wonderland of dulled but fire like colour.
Despite the resemblance to such heat the sun provides less warmth everyday,
the lush hot summer has been washed away and replaced by the cool crisp autumn air.
The blusty and blowy wind dries my mouth, making me thirsty for the warmth of the sun rather than the icy rain that the gloomy clouds above threaten to deliver at any given moment.
Though in some ways seemingly unpleasant, there is an understated beauty to be appreciated as I walk through the snow of summer’s fallen gifts, a colourful reminder of the blossoms that have been and bestowing the promise of the blooms that will come again.