Driving home I notice pots of chrysanthemums on passing thresholds. I’m reminded how you would fill the porch with mums at the first hint of autumn. There is a kind of serene melancholy as autumn signals the waning of another year. You always decorated the porch based on the season, but I think autumn was your favorite. And now the porch remains the same regardless of the season.
wandering thoughts
as time grows shorter . . .
tattered leaf
wandering thoughts
as time grows shorter . . .
tattered leaf
