Have to take a very brief pause from the bakery to mention that there is a gentle breeze blowing. An expectant breeze.
Not hot. Not cold. Not blustery.
Expectant.
I can imagine the turning of the leaves, the smell of smoke in the air, the shivery evenings that require a sweater.
Fall.
The willow tree turns up her silvery leaves and waves a gently greeting. Palette of green gives way to dusting of gold, here and there. Crickets chirp, all throughout the day, making certain to not waste a moment.
They know.
Alright, already. Back to the bakery. But I had to pause and feel for a moment. I hope you pause to breathe in and breathe out a few times and enjoy the turning of the season.
1 comment:
If I might say something about your words, they are beautiful. What a picture you paint with them.
I can say this since I am your Mom and I love what you write and have for a very long time.
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