• The new spring leaves sprout amongst the trees.
    They stretch their bodys to the best of their ability, glimmering in the luminescent sun. They smile and strut their glossy finishes and unique wax texture.
    They linger in the sky, watching the days and nights roll by; They watch the life around them grow, change, adapt, reconfigure, and blossom.

    Summer brings about the heat that lashes at the leaves, stripping them of they're polish and glow. Around the end of summer, the leaves look as if the embers from the sun had flown down and licked at them, slowly taking their beauty and replacing it with another.

    Fall. Fall is when the leaves are crisp and golden. The fall forest resembles a flowing, shifting, miraculous, unfathomable dance of a gold and sun-beaten river. Each leaf falling gracefully to the ground below, painting the floors of the world a spectrum of fresh, warm colors. The leaves dance around in the sky and around us, the wind accompanying them in a dance.

    Winter rolls in shortly after fall, sweeping across the land and changing everything as we know it. The waters transform into a mirror of fogged glass. The trees are bare and naked, yet covered in a soft, white blanket of powder. The leaves are tucked away, under their own blanket of fleece as well. All is peaceful, all is calm, and all shall remain this way until the process repeats itself again.