As a youngster, I remember a walk in the meadow
and being mesmerized by its beauty.
In Spring the beauty is overwhelming,
The many beautiful flowers are blooming.
Undulating green hills flowing into blue skies.
From nothing , life is born, it is the miracle of mother nature.
In Summer the strength and will of life is evident,
from windswept wheat fields to thirst quenching thunderstorms,
nature boldly embraces the bountiful landscape
without any barriers.
In Autumn the colors abound ,
Orange, Red and Yellow trees produce a beauty which
Only the Pumpkin fields can explain.
It is a prize to my eyes which I am grateful to see.
When Winter arrives I look back on the Spring walks
and the beauty of innocence.
The boldness of Summer and the fruits of Autumn.
Now the meadow is cold and barren.
It feels like the end … or perhaps….just the beginning ?
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