Misty mountain roadway, cheshire cat moon mystic finds her way, winds her way home. A twisted river trail, she lifts and lowers like the tide, movements reflected in the changing of the seasons.
November autumn sunshine, winter thoughts at bay for one more day, I revel in the light, and delight in the way the sun shine lies to skin that should be bracing itself for snow. It’s easy to forget that all this green will be gone someday, it’s easy to lose myself in the thought that before too long, white will be the only colour I’ll remember well.