Fall means nothing to a tree already dead.

Festive yellows and orange. An explosion of red to celebrate the long hibernation of the forest. How long will I stand here and watch the seasons pass while spring brings me no new shoots and fall no multi-hued adornments?

My leaves fell and still my trunk stands a sentinel to life while slowly my roots are eaten by weevils. Such are the many dreams that swirl in the ether of youth and dry on the sunset threshing floor of age.

And so my blog has not been updated and I offer only this. I have seen things and I choose to keep them to myself. I will blog again starting Monday.

Oh, and the loss of leaves thing was not a hair reference, but I can see how it might be misunderstood that way.