haven’t much felt like writing these days. Honestly haven’t much felt like doing anything. The leaves are changing and fall is rapidly approaching. it is always bittersweet. There is nothing nicer than the first crisp bite of autumn beneath bright stars or the riot of color that explodes across the hills above the farm. They are hallmarks of the changing seasons. I happen to love the fall. Unfortunately it tends to be unkind. It doesn’t matter how much I like the change in temp or the holidays spent with family it is always inevitable that there is a shadow creeping. It is there good years and bad. It is perpetual in its steady approach. Often the first leaves dust the lawn and I fight the urge to panic. Long conversations go on in my head in hopes of convincing myself the sky truly isn’t falling. I wonder if this is forever? Will autumn always be laced with emotional arsenic? Will I ever stand in a place where I can marvel in nature’s beauty and nothing else?
thebipolarfarmer 