Leaves falling from the tree, like butterflies dancing, like wild geese flying. Fallen leaves scattered on the floor, paving a golden road, that carries dreams into the distance. The golden autumn sun, warm and quiet, the breeze gentle and soft, the clouds are elegant in the blue sky, gold is everywhere in the field.
Autumn is here, fruits are ripe. The yellow pears, apples bright and red, grapes glistening. Cool breeze blowing, fruits are nodding, exuding tempting fragrance.
The pomegranate tree in the morning fog, looking vigorous. The pomegranates seem to know the arrival of autumn, they smile, so happy, lovely, with bright red teeth showing.
Autumn, a beautfiful season, the harvest season, the golden season, with flowers in bloom like springtime, with warm enthusiastic sun like summer, and charming as snow fluttering in the winter.
In the forest, every tree is golden and upright. The rustle of leaves when the autumn breeze passes by, is such an intoxicating piece of music, this is a song played by the nature.
Autumn is sensible, it is not as glamorous as springtime, not as hot as summer, nor as reserved as winter.
Autumn came with the susurrus of leaves, in a morning as fresh as dews. The sky is beautiful with a soft radiance, clear and ethereal, with the songs of highflying larks.
Leaves are falling, into the arms of mother earth, they’re jumping, pirouetting, dancing, falling, sleeping, sweetly with the soil.