Dancing leaves

Of all the seasons I remember autumn’s the most. Walking in the ark as a child, kicking my legs through piles of dry leaves, or slashing in puddles of water with soggy leaves sticking to my wellies. Looking at faces in gnarled trees, seeing if I could see Halloween witches. Sitting under the remaining few leaves of a weeping willow. Wondering when it would be clothed again. Time then was slow. Six months took a year….

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