The colors, the cool crispness of the air, the gathering in of harvest, the knowledge that winter's chill is just around the corner-- inspire a need to hear the needles clicking, and see the hook a-flying.
I'm just back from a weekend trip. It was strange to find myself behaving like a tourist, stopping the car on mountain roads to snap photos; though they are the same roads I've traveled all my life. This year, the colors seem more vibrant, more achingly beautiful; and the need to capture them before they're gone... of critical importance.
Perhaps, finally, I'm returning to the self who never took for granted: one day, one breath, one single autumn leaf.