As I was out snapping this collection of photos, I fretted over posting too much of the same, a meal made, a Pike’s Peak photo, another ambered leaf in fall, before mildly chastising myself that this is what seasons are, a repetition, two points joining to make a circle. It is also who I am, a person sharing her singular journey. Another year has passed, and I am grateful to have made it, yet again, to this time of intense color and diminishing light, a year older and hopefully wiser. I still make my mistakes, mostly quietly, occasionally with bravado and much brooding over them, before moving forward. Like the tree from bare to bud to green to yellow, orange, or red. It is all good.

Additionally, I would be remiss to not include the best song, sharing the title of the post, from the late and very, very great Chris Cornell for your listening pleasure, or at least mine. Seasons

Shared

The joy that isn’t shared dies young.

Anne Sexton

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Seeds

Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.

Robert Louis Stevenson

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Silvered

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.

John Gillespie MaGee, Jr.

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Shone

I saw it from that hidden, silent place
Where the old wood half shuts the meadow in.
It shone through all the sunset’s glories – thin
At first, but with a slowly brightening face.
Night came, and that lone beacon, amber-hued,
Beat on my sight as never it did of old;
The evening star – but grown a thousandfold
More haunting in this hush and solitude.

It traced strange pictures on the quivering air –
Half-memories that had always filled my eyes –
Vast towers and gardens; curious seas and skies
Of some dim life – I never could tell where.
But I knew that through the cosmic dome
Those rays were calling from my far, lost home.

H.P. Lovecraft

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