Old Trees Shed Their Gowns
I hurry because it is cold, even though the sun is shining so brightly. The breeze is lightly touching my cheeks with icy fingers. My shadow goes before me, slightly to my right. I hear the newly fallen leaves crunching under my heavy shoes in the front yard, but as I go through the gate into the back I notice the leaves have been mulched and there are no newly fallen leaves. The old trees there have already shed their gowns and lift their arms to the blue skies waiting for whatever the season might bring them.