The smells of autumn are unmistakable. The clean smell of Macintosh apples in a nearby bushel, the carpet of golden maple leaves soaking in the warm sun, and the damp earth preparing a resting place for frost-bitten hostas, salvia, and phlox.
And then one leaf…and another…gracefully floated to the ground to take its place among the others.
Seasons end, but another is waiting. Do we hang on to the old? Or do we anticipate the new?
Even in the midst of the cold and bitter winter, there is life. The wind plays with the snow, creating ripples of purple shadowed dunes while grand, lacy snowflakes rock gently to the earth – breathing life into our weariness.
The pain will end. But in its cold and bitterness, there is still life. Can you find it?