The summer leaves betray me

as their tips turn ever so slightly brown.
Translucent, amber stars quietly pushing away from their host, preparing for their fall
to the Earth. 
She catches green then brown in her sweet embrace, while I feel the wind pitch with a bit more fury and I sense the inevitable is near.

 

Earth.   I 'know' it is a cycle and spring will come again and that this means nutrients that feed a natural cycle – and that these fresh leaves will become next years’ rich earth,  which feed the maturing, growing plantlife next spring.  

 But winter, brrrr,  it brews in me a strong resistance