Sing me the song of seasons,flowers in the summer, fires in the fall. It is the time of the year when the leaves starts to mature and its colours ripens, it is when the days grow colder each day. Leaves scurrying down the street before the wind. The cold shiver from an arctic blast, alas it is fall.
-- the temperature drops; the sunny haze; the mellow, rich delicate, almost flavoured air: Enough to live -- enough to merely be.
The Rainy Season. Dry corn stalks clattering in the wind. The touch of frost on grass and window pane. The smell of burning leaves. Rain is always expected it adds mystery especially when it is misty. Would you not go near the water and watch fall sing it's melancholy as the birds disappeared one by one. Falls signals ahead, father winter is near again, until spring awakens in its slumber.~