I came outside to write today. It’s quiet during the day–only the slight rustle of oak trees. I still feel Fall in the air–the heat doesn’t hide its approach. The different angle of the sun’s rays always gives it away. The wind has picked up slightly and leaves are beginning to rain down.
I love the coming of every season. I think it’s the change–a sense of rebirth.
I’m looking for a different angle as well and hope at times like these, that a change of scenery, and of season, will provide it. Sometimes we only need to listen to find our place again. My writing has been such a struggle of emotions over the last couple of years. So as I let myself sit here and absorb the sounds of nature, this is what I see: