Yesterday evening,
after a day of teaching,
I hiked alone
up to the lookout
in the hills above my house.
Dry leaves
on the old walnut tree
smoldered
in the crimson light
and the already changing foliage
of a few species of plants
whispered of autumn to come.
As the western sky
enveloped the sun,
a swollen full moon
ascended silently
in the eastern expanse.
I stood transfixed
amid the transition.
How wonderful
to simply appreciate
the interludes,
savor the spaces in between,
and stay in rhythm
with the magical way
everything
becomes
something
else.
Transition