I walk through the park, my faithful companion by my side. More than a dog, he is my life. Nose to the ground, he drinks in the myriad of wonderful smells. He is oblivious to all else in this moment; he is beautiful. Perhaps he understands it best; a life so simple, so pure, that it requires no explanation, no apology.
Chilled air, still carrying the smell and taste of a recent rain, blows through the trees and across my face. The sting on my uncovered cheeks and nose reminds me I am alive. Sillouhetted against a dusky sky, colored leaves perform a magical, floating dance as they descend from their former high perches, transforming the once green grass into a swirling sea of gold, red, yellow, and brown. I close my eyes, lost in the pleasure of change.
I am soon reminded of winter — and the cold, dark nights that lie ahead. One by one, the others depart — and with the sun now rested, night envelops the path; we are the last to remain.
I am haunted by beauty.
~ Jim Foster
