Autumn passes by like a swift sunbeam. Days get shorter to the point it is still night when you wake up. Still hangs in the blazing cold of a late afternoon rain the smell of fullness giving freely what the season has to offer. The muted grey skies and the pale skins. The starry nights of hope and solitude. The vibrant leaves of gingko, maple, chestnut, London plane in shades of warm colours. Yellow ochre, raw sienna, burnt umber, rose madder genuine and red lake deep. The smooth, glossing skin of persimmons flickering candle light. The hot pumpkin soup smokes from a white bowl, waiting. Everything prospers its best like a generous goodbye.