Summer is letting go. Her final sigh is long; it bleaches out colour and fades past glories. There is a longing around now that always catches me unaware. Next time we meet, we will both be different.... I am made for autumn. Summer and I have a fickle relationship, but everything about autumn is perfect to me.... The low slanting light, the crisp mornings, the chill in my fingers, those last warm sunny days before the rain and wind. Her moody hues and subdued palate punctuated every now and again by a brilliant orange, scarlet or copper goodbye.
She is my true love.