fall

as he was about to press a first key to start typing his conflict between boredom and enchantment, he couldn't resist noticing how his hands had grown pigmented and aged. he couldn't remember when the last time he noticed, and with the leaves from the old maple-like tree just a view distance from his bedroom window had already turned sullen and brown, it could have been a couple of weeks ago, or possibly a month. a period of fullness. living. greenness. life.

why had the season come to share his feeling of shedding and loss. had he already succumbed to the enchantment of the wild - with the impending winter's bidding to either coop in hibernation or fly away to warmer lands.

photo:
central park | new york
october 2015