It's fall. My favorite time of year... for a million different reasons...but I can't help but marvel at the trees. I think the fiery red leaves are my favorite.
Some hold on for the cooler air, the richer colors, the brisker winds.
Don't they know that old, shriveled, lifeless leaves are much less becoming than those that simply let go? The ones that let go are the ones that get jumped in, crunched by the preschooler's shoes. If they would just let go they would be the heat and life of bonfire and the beauty of the elementary school artwork.
Don't I know this?
That letting go is simply the gateway to a new purpose?
Which one are you?