Love for... autumn

I love autumn, for itself.

Not because it's "a second spring when every leaf is a flower" (Albert Camus); nor because it's "the year's last, loveliest smile" (John H. Bryant, brother of William Cullen Bryant).


Autumn is space for diversity... 

Leaves falling isn't a sad thing. It's a magical thing, part of a beautiful circle that happens every year. And the trees that were once all green, mature into their own colour and into their own personality.

How can we not love this?

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