Sidetracked On The Way To Winter

It was one of the last beautiful fall days, I am sure.

A day where our blue-eggshelled stretch of sky created the most serene backdrop for the burning maples and dogwoods. A day we stepped out of shady patches into the warm sunlight while chasing swirling leaves.

A day whipped by wind, encircling and insistent in its path of whimsy. A day full of energy to match the tempo of the breeze.

The day was perfect. Not to be wasted, but deeply experienced. To be explored and examined and dawdled over.

To be remembered before clouds and winter heap themselves in cold and wetness at our door. To bask in its warmth and balance on its edge before falling sideways into the next season.

To be yelled and screamed about while racing with the gusting air. To be smiled and squealed about.

It was a good day.

When the last light of evening was claimed for a few more blissful moments to let the warm air kiss our cheeks goodnight. Because we couldn't bear to let the day go.

When the lowering sun graced the treetops with a burst of brilliance against a settling down sky.

When we absorbed every last morsel of perfection the day had to offer, and tucked them away to keep us cozy this winter.

When we said tiny prayers of thanks all day long - morning, noon, and night - that such beauty should be ours.