Yellow rain. The leaves cover the soil with a soft, crisp, colorful layer. The trees look like burning flames. The light is soft, golden. The leaves are dying, the trees will soon be bare. Another circle is coming to an end.

I love this change and at the same time feel the pain of parting from all the green that surrounded me just a moment ago.

I am an autumn person. Even when I’m happy, I’m always sad.

I used to hate this sadness. I tried to suppress it, eliminate it, pretend it was not there. Today I love it. Sadness is a part of me, of my sensitivity, of my connection to the hardships of the human experience.

All the breakups I went through, all the pain of living without a mother, all the desires I will not fulfill, all the children I will not have, all the years of love I have missed, all the cells that die in my body. They float in the air like autumn leaves, falling at my feet.

I stand in the midst of the forest in awe of this wonderous beauty – of autumn, of life.