Nature is a mirror for the Soul

Overnight, autumn arrived, all flashy oranges and jeweled reds and brilliant yellows. The season tricked me into believing the cool, crisp, heaven-sent days would last. On Monday, the maple across the street was a blaze of glimmering color. By Saturday the tree’s top branches stretched bald into a dull sky, a ring of red leaves around the bottom of the stately tree already curling in on themselves.

This autumn is a mirror of my current life. Or so it feels.

At sixty-three, my heart may s...

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