As the wheel of life turns so it brings with it endings and new beginnings.
Endings. Summer. A season in its death throes.
Beginnings. Autumn. Still mysterious, still waiting in the shadows, with its promise of crisp morning air, soft pink sunsets and steaming mugs of thick, hot chocolate.
Transitions. Lazy summer days slowly merging into the more hectic pace of autumn and winter.
Beginnings. Endings. Transitions.
Endings. A thistle – dry and dead; at its heart the beginnings of new life.
Beginnings. Rain. Fat droplets of cooling rain that made the hot ground sizzle and sing as it quenched a summer-long thirst.
Transitions. From the frills, flounces and pretty pastel clothes of summer to the darker, more sombre hues of autumn and winter.
Endings. Silence. The cicadas and crickets have ceased their song. Our days and nights now echo to the silent whisper of summer memories.
So it goes on … The death of one moment gives birth to the next. The wheel of life. Turning. Never flagging. Never stopping. Not for a minute. Or for an hour. Or for a season. Beginnings. Endings.