The Beauty of Decay
It fascinates me how quickly the leaves fall. One day the trees are draped in green and gold, heavy with the weight of a summer past. Then comes the wind, that sudden sharp chill in November, and they seem to shiver. I watch them drift down, spiraling slowly against the grey sky.
"Beauty is not about being perfect. It's about finding the quiet moments between the chaos." β Unknown
There is a melancholy to the end of things that I find peaceful rather than sad. The decay isn't death; it's transformation. Just like us, we are shedding our skins and our old habits to make room for what comes next.
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