- Spring In Fall -
It was a leap year on a crisp November evening and I was on my way to the park to view the phenomenon of the spring trees. The leaves that surrounded me are tinted autumn with death hovering above them, yet the blossoms I had heard so much about, are full of rebirth and pastels.
As I walked through the stone walkway of pink hues, my mind painted an elaborate canvas of the three symmetrical rows that were covered in blooming, white blossoms that fall steady and light as snow. I twirl my pink cape to the vision brushed in my mind, picturing the birds of stripes and spots, in shades of black and white, flutter out of the floral blanket covering the structured wood branches. It is as if I had been there in a past life and lived in one of the many houses built between the branches. As I walked into the park from the west side entrance, I saw the magical trees before me and at that moment, I knew I was home.