This is the tree whose leaves I will put amongst the raspberries...

But until then I will let its ethereal beauty permeate the soul. Autumn. The first rain intensifies the colors. Fallen cedar tips glisten rust reds on wet, sandy roads. Maple trees glow sunset golds against dark evergreens. Why is it that death can be so beautiful in the natural world? The island is quiet now. The crowds and most of the people are gone and I am spending a lot of time alone playing with Babygirl. I find myself embracing the silence like the sister I never had.
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