I've accomplished a lot today, but I've been so distracted, my mind so flurry-ful, my heart so glad and joyous. Fall is here, now, but it's a different kind of fall. Tiny faeries must be floating on the little oak leaves, as they meander to my feet all in a hurry. I look across the sidewalk and see a whirl of them, sending a song back to heaven with their vigour. Warm and comforting, the afternoon air does not seem autumnal, but this is a new autumn, this is a new dream.
What high hopes we have for life, what great things we might all accomplish. How many more leaves will I bruise beneath my feet? How many more acorns will I crush? How many more moments until eternity? Or when does eternity begin? Perhaps the questions are my answers, as I wait in expectation for the next season, drawing deep droughts of worth out of this moment by the anticipation of the next.