from Seasons project 2009

Seasons change—some with warning, some with haste. Colors fade and life withers. In the hands of nature the gradual becomes the immediate. A time to take stock in what we have—a time to gather for what may be tomorrow. What was once all about us withdraws underground; the sun sets and the land grays. The bounty has ended and the days of heed are upon us. One for today—two, three for tomorrow. What the sky provided, the ground will keep. To bloom again we must take measures at once. The simple and the pure will lead us to prosperity. The true will harvest in our course. As with each day, the light returns, so too will the sun rise upon new life. Turn the soil, turn the soul. Sow what we long to reap.


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