|
☰ |
Autumn holds a spring within...
Autumn has arrived—quietly, inevitably. It is the season of letting go, of falling and folding into earth. Leaves descend, the world dries in the rain. Colors deepen—amber, gold, rust, crimson— a paradox of death and beauty. Autumn is the final gathering, the storing of warmth before the silence of snow. It is a threshold, between warmth and cold, between youth and age, between longing and memory. Autumn is middle age. It is the soft fading and the fierce blaze.
"Though a tree wears autumn’s hues,
as long as roots remain,
the trunk does not die."
– Simin Behbahani
