I took these photos during my first autumn back in Kansas in 2009.. I’m guilty of saying that every season is my favorite season at the turning of each, but when I boil it down, autumn really is the one I feel the closest connection with for various reasons. I picked up a mountain bike today — looking forward to exploring my trails further on my non-running mornings, especially now that the trees are really starting to turn.
by Carl Sandburg
I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, new beautiful things
come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, and the old things go,
not one lasts.