Last Fall, I went on a trip to Portland.
It was a gorgeous rainy mess of gold and red.
The foliage melted every bit of me.
I miss that the most.
I find myself scratching to go on trips in Autumn every year as to not miss it.
And I realized that's something I fear about the desert. What if that was my last time? What if I never witness that perfect change of season again. The moment that everything glitters before it falls. The moment that the world reveals every last bit of colorful beauty it carries within itself before becoming cold and quiet.
And then I feel quiet.
I feel sadness.
I feel empty.
I try to hold onto those last feelings. Those last smells of damp, leafy confetti. That scarf around my neck.
What the world gives me through its never ending beauty, nothing else can.
And then I repeat, in my mind, "Please, if nothing else, just let me see another Autumn."