Fallen leaves carpet grounds in ambers, except for those that hold on limbs for dear life. Parks are barren, missing squeals of youths and laughter among families. Park benches are abandoned by lovers, both young and old. Autumn’s melancholy mushrooms over time as winds blow mockingly. Suddenly, temperatures rise to unseasonal heights with warmer days, oh! so short-lived, teasing all things living.
Indian Summer squats
basking under sun kissed skies
Mother Nature lies.
Nothing nicer than a little break with Indian Summer just before the long cold months ahead. The trees are bare, the parks are empty, children back in school all day now. She sits on the park bench to soak up the warm sun with her parka on her lap.