Winter is on the air. Leaves left on the trees whirl like pinwheels, or drift off like twirling ballerinas.
I watch with quiet wonder as a leaf gently alights onto the streams flow. Ripple, ripple, ripple. How simple, yet complex.
How else do we describe water but as cool, clear and sweet? This water is definitely cool, its 30 degrees out, and I can see the bottom where the sand has been dragged into undulating patterns.
Aside from the sound of cars ‘swooshing’ on a distant bridge there is only my neurotic dog as she snuffles and sniffs the surrounding ground.
What is this place? Abandoned? Or just forgotten as the cold reclaims what summer has left behind.
I can feel my cheeks nipped red on the edges, and my hair is starting to escape my knit hat.
Time to return. Welcome once again winter.