The hills on the horizon are becoming clearer, I think to myself. I reflect on the faint haze that remains after the heavy fog that painted the landscape white earlier in the morning. The low sun is shining, illuminating the few remaining colourful leaves on the trees in front of me. I think back to all the changes in the leaves — from the pink of spring to the green of summer to the ambers and reds of autumn — and the delight I have found in watching the colours change as the seasons pass.
As I look around to the distance, I see trees that are still covered in yellow leaves. Indeed, in autumn, everything changes at its own pace, which brings joy. I actively look for the first buds of spring, the first green trees of summer, and the first autumn leaves.
I gaze out the window. The sky around to the low sun is painted white. On the periphery, you can make out the soft blue of the rest of the sky. The sky is seldom like this at any other time of year: the white sky on the horizon, the light from which beams to illuminate the colour of the leaves still on trees, is a special part of autumn.
Autumn makes me want to slow down — a time of rest after a busy year. In autumn, I especially enjoy making a cup of coffee and looking out the window and enjoying all of the trees in their splendour.
When winter comes, I reflect on what has been: all of the colours and the life and the warmth. With winter, there are new sights to see: from the white glistening that reflects from the hills as the sun rises to the snow that paints the pavements and makes me think back to my childhood. While I prefer the warmth to the cold, there is something magical about the winter mornings where there are no clouds in the sky and when I can see my breath as I walk around.
