Herfst in het Haagse Bos (Autumn in the Hague Forest)

img_4936I 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

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