On a warm afternoon in early October there’s a hint of summer lingering, but I can clearly see summer also fleeing with the freeing of each leaf. My gaze keeps shifting to the birch tree, which sends swirls of leaves dancing like scores of butterflies to the whims of the wind. Then the breeze pauses, perhaps to wonder at its power, before rustling the leaves again against a blue sky.
It is a perfect autumn day, one that swings my moods from reflection to inspiration, from gracious to anxious. Anxious only in the thought: “Do I have to leave this woodland wonderland?”