At this point in autumn, I usually feel a little anxious—like I can feel something smoldering. There is always that strange damp, earthy, burning smell that permeates everything. I purposely miss the bus so I can make the chilly trek home and sift through fallen locust leaves, trying to read them like they mean something. My guts tell me it’s time to start nest building, that nightly frosts are just the beginning. I've seen 21 autumns and the bouquet of colors and textures never ceases to amaze me. Between the pallets of pumpkin patches and mums there is something that whispers, "Go forth and finger paint!" So, I today I set to work on a swirling autumn goddess…
What does your autumn goddess look like? What are the leaves telling you?
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