Les gens qui ne rient jamais ne sont pas des gens sérieux

Be who you are and say what you mean, those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind

Wednesday, September 26, 2007


All spring and all summer, the branches left our balcony and climbed the walls. The bright new leaves seemed to grow as we watched, twisted green tendrils stretching out and exploring. Soon, they were invading the neighbours so we turned them back and suggested other directions. Before we went looking for foreign sun, our space was almost full.

When we returned, the leaves had changed. The bushy green was now red and orange, fading into yellowed green.

Over the last week the reds have dulled, dried, sighed and fallen. They piled up into dusty mounds and crumbled as they were swept away by the wind and my broom.

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