Sunday, 30 October 2011


By Earlie Doriman

When the leaves change colour and start to fall while the cold winds begin to shake harder the tree branches, that's when I feel that summer is gone and the autumn time terminates the wonderful warm of sunshine. More so, I just could not help myself but absorb the melancholy of the season blunt, lifeless, and long. This is the time of the year when I feel that the leaves whisper the sound of the past as they slowly descend from the joyful days brushing with the gentle air. And for few more months, the branches and twigs that they bid goodbye are hopeful to welcome the new spring of life to turn the world around them alive again.

Just like the poem by Robert Frost that goes:

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold,
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

All photos here were taken on October 25, 2011 at the Ironbridge.

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