A Season of Death

I took a ride today
A grey rainy dismal day
It occurred to me that this is the season of death, with passing thoughts of my own
Leaves, browned and desiccated hang stubbornly on near naked limbs
Stores put up for the coming winter wasteland
Hibernation is nigh
Even the Sun is running from this place
Days shorter
Nights longer and colder
Everything that hopes to survive the coming season is preparing for it in earnest.
But I only see the leaves.. the dead
No longer hued with vibrant color, the season has given its last grand show
Soon the purity of a pristine blanket of white will come
Though not soon enough
There is a simple beauty and a beautiful simplicity in that cold crisp blanket of white
And there is an unmistakable undeniable beauty in simplicity
A sort of virginity to an unsoiled landscape
Perhaps that ride was more poignant that I realized in the moments
There are often layers, depth of meaning previously unfathomable, in our everything
Pay attention
Make good choices.
Be NOT on autopilot, but Think and Choose
This is advice to myself as much as anyone else