[dc]Y[/dc]es, Fall, that harbinger of Michigan’s Eight Months of Good Sledding, is here. And there. And everywhere. This means leaves on the ground (although sadly, not pants on the ground—at least not where I shop).
Leaves (not Leafs
Yes, yes, the contrast here means SOMETHING. Photo by me.
Nothing makes my daily walk more enjoyable than the constant reminder of mortality crunching under my feet. Then there is the stark juxtaposition of frail nature on top of cold, lifeless concrete. In the end, that is all we are: dead leaves on the road, trod upon by those who follow.
Good grief. I am super-ready for my honeymoon next week if you couldn’t tell (I came across the leaf photo while cleaning out my memory cards). If you think I am bad now, just wait until Winter hits ::frowny face emoticon::.
All Morose, All the Time, that’s me in Winter.
(Why ,oh, why couldn’t it be All Melrose, All the Time? Think of all the awesome mullets.)
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