Although I love summer best, my heart leaps into my breast with flares of joy for spring and then once more for the bright lovely days of Autumn

Autumn to me is more than a dying time, or a song sorrow, or a lament to the Old Gods

Its a time of remembering—as the leaves fall down on the weary ground and the plants close up for another year

The sky seems to [also] brighten into strong colors even more so than the brilliant summer skies

The air is not full of the smell of green growing things and thirsty soil like it is in Spring

Nor is it full of the spices and floral scents of summer

But it is full of the smell of leaves turning yellow and falling, drifting toward the earth where we mere mortals tread.

From my world to your heart,

Linda