October 11, 1999: The valuable worth of having change
Dark is the sky, rain filled its path of choice—moisture to loosen what summer set in. It’s almost time to introduce the color, the glamour the best of all seasons—fall in Carolina. Leaves of bright yellow and red, forest floors become invisible, imaginations play like children—giant piles of leaves to dive into. Mountain creeks splashing against the rocks, the chill bites at your ears—the scent of homemade soup then enters…
Dark is the sky; rain filled its path of choice—the new sun not ready to rise. Nor am I…for I wish to return to the fall painting. It seemed…so peaceful.