2.07.2012

38 of 365

The storm circled, eyeing its target, a proud young maple standing alone on the roadside. The tree shed its leaves in the wind, prominent traces of autumn cast over the ground. The final leaf released its grip and fell to a puddle below. It broke the surface and sent a ripple to the surrounding bank, capsizing every floating piece of orange and yellow in its path, stirring up the calm sea, announcing the arrival of winter.

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