Novembers End

A few wet, wind scorched leaves, are pressed like Victorian mementos upon the wooden walkway The trees in this forested park are tattered, or stand like blackened forked skewers piercing the stark air. Autumn fell too far, too soon. Winter grabbed the sky and quickly froze it. Now the odd leaf upon the ground seems abandoned, homeless, unable now to be anything but the litter of yesterday. A good day for wading through the history of this changing season, to watch those prematurely gray ghosts hobbling along a pathway seeking threadbare sparks of life.