The Autumn and the Fall of Leaves
It is not authentic that the close of a your life which ends in a natural fashion- --life which is permitted to put on the display of death and to head out in glory- --inclines your brain to rest. It is not true of the day stopping nor the passing in the year, neither of the show up of leaves. Whatever permanent, uneasy issue is indigenous to men, comes forwards most insistent and most loud at this sort of times. You may still find places where you can feel and identify the soul of the dropping of leaves.
At Fall season, the atmosphere which is of so sensitive and weak a green as to contain something of gentle mockery, and particular more of pain, presides in the fall of leaves. There is no air, not any breath whatsoever. The leaves are so light that they sidle on their going downward, hesitating in that which is not void to them, and touching at last so intangible to the earth with which they may be to combine, that the gesture is much gentler than a greeting, and even more discreet than a very discreet touch. They earn a little audio, less than the very least of seems. No fowl at night in the marshes rustles so a bit, no guys, though men are the most refined of living creatures, put so passing a stress after their almost holy whispers or perhaps their prayers. The leaves are rarely heard, but they are heard only so much that men also, who is intended at the end to grow glorious and to perish, look up and hear all of them falling.
There exists an unlimited amount of qualities of describing the leaves. The color is not really a mere beauty: it is elaborate. If you take up one leaf, then you can see the sharp border boundaries which can be stained with a deep yellow-gold and are not defined. Nor do shape and classification ever set out to exhaust record. For you will find softness and hardness too. Beside boundaries you have colours and tints, shades also, varying thicknesses of stuff, and unlimited choice of surface, and that list also is unlimited, and the sections of each item in it are everywhere the interesting depth and the which means of therefore...