A Second Spring

Written by: Albert Ahearn

The dew indiscriminately wept for all things living and dead on this early autumn morning. Its cold droplets caressed the leaves while lingering sap-starved leaf stems clung precariously above and each dying leaf shed teardrops for and onto their fallen kind. One by one they released their hold falling silently, gracefully in their final unique fashion: Some swayed. Others pirouetted; and many more, somersaulting into their final resting place. Sunbeams from an October star spilt rippling puddles of warm light on their multicolored remains amid the vibrant wildflowers. Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower. Albert Camus