The Great Outdoors

Fragments of light bursting though the brittle leaf old in age surrounded by new greener replacements.

Sun so hot it’s blazing trail of rays enkindle the delicate hands of the luchious green foliage, transforming them to a crisp amber.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.” (Robert Frost)

Fresh pine. Green needles. Small in size. But big in color.

Shadows.

The wear and tear of cruel mother nature.