She is art in its raw state - a foundation, a nod, a rupture of moving entities from which a permanence is formed. A heightened period of reinvention per annum.  How strangely comforting it is to smell her subtle fragrance moving through the last summer winds; to see the glint of her emblematic colors before they emerge; to feel her spirit taking root deep within me, filling the hollows with her firewood warmth. 

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This is Autumn.