Boots kicking leaves, on a path thick with vibrant colours and timely death. The trees stood calmly waiting, planning the next phase of rest.
Some sweeps of branches like arms touched tree to tree. Others of russets, yellows and the sad last greens fanned hovering static together in an awning above the earth.
Shouting and arguing were a pair of Jay birds stropping from one treetop to another. Heard across the forest, others listened.
Looking up, the canopy looked prehistoric. Timeless with the ghosts of birds and animals long gone residing silently and still watching.
In the glade two trees separately together. One very tall, caught forever mid dance. I sensed the family around them gazing.
My Tree of Life has company