The Familiar Cadence In Autumn

Cold spells get to a slow start this year, with this month's full moon - known as the Beaver moon. It makes me think though; of my homeland where people walk and enjoy the precipice of the night. While in New York autumn holds symbolic meanings and stories to tell; with a giant wind that looms over a coastline; it's another landscape that beckons across the farmland. Withered leaves drop and fall on the ground, trees in their creeping sadness continue to lose the sojourn of their youth. At their height and moving branches, make me stay up and watch them through the present time. As I gleefully walk right up to the shrine of Our Lady, there's a missing whisper, a song to my ears; those birds spilling down the garden's main avenue. Like an army, an orchestra that provides melody in the midst of sympathy. As a magical moment of Mother Nature, I see enormous changes in forms and shapes; an attempt to thrive for another threshold, keeps me believe the power beyond filled with images of life.