There Is A Season

During the early evening yesterday, I walked two miles along side a small lake.   The greens are beginning to blush with the insistence of fall presenting an opulent palate of purple, reds, oranges and yellows. The lowering sun cast a Monet reflection of the tree lined path onto the shallow water’s edge.  I knew that what I was experiencing would last only a short time in comparison to the offering of the rest of the year.  The glorious colors will soon drop from the limbs and drift to the ground becoming dried crunch.