Firethorns

All is quiet in autumn’s early light.

From its faraway zenith, the equinoctial sun bathes the quivering world in its aureate gleam. Nature is simmering, fawn leaves are rustling in the expectant air.

Soon all will burst in golden shades and brilliant tones. An ebullition of colour, a feast of warmth, a burning banquet.

All green that is, in an instant set ablaze.

The wild firethorns, splashed by autumn flames, will boast their orange hue.

Shining tiaras will be bestowed on sturdy trees and bushy shrubs.

And there I’ll be, sitting against an umber trunk, watching a glorious page be written. For although evennight’s a prelude to frost, there is dazzling beauty in nature’s last fierce eruption. An ultimate incandescence, a farewell bonfire.

🍂Kémy, 21/09/2018

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