I have tried to run faster than the gray squirrels. I can’t believe they can stay ahead of my strides. They cheat, of course, and race up a tree when I begin to overtake them. They don’t even follow me over the bridge to the duck and heron ponds.
Winter has sneaked up on fall and plays tug-a-war with for leaves and the last days of sunshine. A crisp in the breeze invites clusters of leaves to bounce and play tag along the sidewalks. Morning frosts the grass in sparkles.
This next season presents a palate of branches that feather the sky in frigid air. With nature exploding wonder all around, I appreciate a slower pace that stimulates my creativity and enthusiasm for every moment in movement.
Creative Write: What does the changing season represent to you? Connect it with memories or emotions.
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