There is beauty even in death...
Outside in the cold crisp air with the drizzling rain, I looked down the streets of my home. The trees had turned a golden red and lined the street in their new attire. The coldness invigorates and the wind plays with your hair and caresses your cheeks, whispering secrets of the world. Their leaves scatter on the ground like a golden red carpet welcoming you.
The rich colours and quiet stillness is reminiscent of a person's life just before he dies...mature, rich with experience, and the best of nature's beauty is revealed. A symbol that all things can come to an end and start anew.
There is nothing more that I love than embracing that solitude where things of life are far away at the back of my mind. Where all that matters is the breath that fills my lungs and the steady steps of my feet. My mind is blisfully blank and for awhile....the world is perfect... where reality is far away and the world is yours to weave to your imagination.
Outside in the cold crisp air with the drizzling rain, I looked down the streets of my home. The trees had turned a golden red and lined the street in their new attire. The coldness invigorates and the wind plays with your hair and caresses your cheeks, whispering secrets of the world. Their leaves scatter on the ground like a golden red carpet welcoming you.
The rich colours and quiet stillness is reminiscent of a person's life just before he dies...mature, rich with experience, and the best of nature's beauty is revealed. A symbol that all things can come to an end and start anew.
There is nothing more that I love than embracing that solitude where things of life are far away at the back of my mind. Where all that matters is the breath that fills my lungs and the steady steps of my feet. My mind is blisfully blank and for awhile....the world is perfect... where reality is far away and the world is yours to weave to your imagination.
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