Saturday

Blown



In exactly the place where here keeps from there and now from then,  the great dissolve that is Autumn comes.

Shattered by color this forest, shattered. The large yellow disc of poplar filled the air these past few afternoons as hundreds rode the winds.  Blown sideways across the meadow and down into the valley only to return and fly up the hillside, the day's skies have belonged to them and them alone this week.

Merrily, merrily - life seems but their dream.