Crunching down our gravel-drive, I noticed it. Vivid against its backdrop of leafy greens and bark brown. This one spot of crimson: our first little sign of autumn's presence.
Fall tends to move slowly, like a painter just hesitantly dabbing the landscape with color. A few trees at a time, here and there....and then suddenly, one morning, we'll wake surrounded by russet and gold.
A simple instance of beauty,
I think God must be loving indeed if he puts that much effort and artistry into something so delicate, something that soon will just break loose with a sigh and spiral to the forest floor.
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