
Red

You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason.
“I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.”
Charles Dickens, Great Expectations
A morning walk in the Berkshires, Beautiful so far. No rain.
July 2nd, 2020