Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
Looks allmighty your fig beauty!Do you leave leaves on the ground as food for the soil,for the garden or you are tiding it down? If I had a garden I would leave it to the nature to take care of it,I would just help it a little, :O) A good day to you,Aleksandra
It wouldn’t be right to rake these leaves while they’re still whispering secrets to each other, and to me....
Autumn where you are, spring here. The catkins on the pin oak in our backyard have given way to leaves of the palest and freshest green - like new born leaves. That colour in spring to me is every bit as beautiful as the yellows, reds and browns of autumn.
You don't get this kind of yellow in LA.Nor the yard space.
Herbststimmung pur, da brauchen wir einfach keine Worte dafür..einen feinen Sonntag dirherzlich, Rachel
Elisabeth, I agree. And the scents and sounds of all seasons seem to touch different places in our memories, bodies, and minds.Kevin, within a few hours after this picture was taken, the tree had changed dramatically. The yellow had faded, more leaves had fallen, and some had brown edges.On the other hand, Rachel, what if the leaves are words?
William, wenn diese Blätter Worte sind, dann fallen sie in die Erinnerung...ein Jahr hat viel zu erzählen...herzlich RachelWilliam, if these journals are words, then fall has it in the Erinnerung...ein year to tell much...warm Rachel
Judging by the title, I'm assuming they had stardust as well as being golden.
Ah! — I knew someone would catch that....
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