Last month the skies were filled with darting swallows, the breeze carried their cries and the air hung sweet with the smells of summer.
But the day came when I looked up and the sky was empty. The swallows had gone.
The leaves curl brown. The days shorten and the sunset creeps ever westward along the ridge.
The seasons turn.
2 comments:
Beautiful photograph. I know what you mean the season turn, but there is always the promise of the spring.
Ah Paul, but all the fun of winter to come first ;-)
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