And again the first fallen leaves rustle underfoot. Like dreams, like dreams of something unfulfilled. Inhaling their aroma, I want to stop and plunge into thought. They seem to slow down time. Everything has stopped, but nothing has ended, it's just a stop until next spring. It's time for thoughts, a warm blanket, hot tea and summer memories. Light sadness, but not sadness. This is light sadness.
Autumn is always light sadness. It quietly whispers something about the most important thing. Listen and you will also see her silhouette among the carved maple leaves. It is already here quiet, soundless, crystal.
I will listen to autumn when the purple twilight is gathering on the street.
I breathe the same scent of miracles with you. I take your hand and feel your fading warmth. I will keep you warm. Kindness warms from the inside. I don’t know much, but I’ll learn. I need your wisdom.
Autumn in the soul is not melancholy and melancholy at all. This is an amazing crystal time when you can plunge into a magical kaleidoscope of days, thoughts, memories. Autumn teaches to appreciate every minute, every golden day, when the weak rays of the sun still illuminate the earth. Autumn is wise and infinitely beautiful.
I listen attentively to the soft rustle of maple leaves and can hardly distinguish the words ...