Crimson Blueberry Brush

Fall is my favorite season. The change in foliage signals a primal calling in me. Did I collect enough for Winter? Fear spikes into my blood and sends a thrill up my spine at the first drop in temperature. Fall is the season for Metamorphosis and that is exactly what I experienced in the Fall of 2016. A creative pulse quickened on the top of Jones Mountain . It was an oddly warm day. And a pleasant golden halo shrouded the granite mountain top. I felt a oneness with the nature around me and drank in every detail. Every crimson leaf, every shimmering bit of foliage floating in the warm air. I drank it all in like it was the first sip of water in days.

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