I have always adored the season - Autumn.
Never do I understand the melancholy of Fall would have such beautiful shades of pastel assembling on the entire Bear Mountain - reminding me of a beautiful oil painting, for such a melancholy season should be accompanied by groom shades of 'greys and greyers' I suppose. The way God had planned at most times... the bright shades may be here to brighten our days to forsake the reminder that such a season which means - The End - of the four seasons has finally arrived, and The End of any that we know of, can be sorrowful.
When I was young, I used to think that Winter was the end of the four seasons. Well, I was wrong.
I have no idea why I do adore such a dolorous season. Perhaps, it is the melancholy in me that adores such a melancholy season Or perhaps, it could be the melancholy in me making the season seems melancholic.
For every Autumn that arrives, the song 'Moon River' keeps playing in my head over and over again. I could hear myself hum or sing the song many times. Is that song suppose to be heart-wrenching at all? Another thought I have implanted in me... something worth deliberating.
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