Tree

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humanity / images / love / nature / words

early fall

It was a completely new sensation, yet more familiar then the smell of his own pillow or the sight of the big tree in the back yard. He had known that tree in every season, even remembered it being younger. Most trees we only meet as adults. He could see how the branches had grown, multiplying, extending, taller than the house itself. Right now the leaves were golden. Early fall, his favorite season, it fitted his melancholy character. Also, spring had been ruined when she died. Right when everything was about to explode, her life had stopped, taking all the joys of spring with her, never to return.

The Author

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.”  Miss Piggy

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