The Autumn Leaves

C'est une chanson, qui nous ressemble
Toi tu m'aimais et je t'aimais
Nous vivions tous, les deux ensemble
Toi que m'aimais moi qui t'aimais
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment
Tout doucement sans faire de bruit
Et la mer efface sur le sable les pas des amants désunis

(Okay, the above lyrics don't apply to my life exactly, but perhaps the sentiment does. And how could I resist "The Autumn Leaves?")

My life is in an autumn. The leaves are constantly changing color. Every time you drive on the same street, the trees look different. Fiery reds, vibrant yellows, robust oranges--the colors of autumn that fade into one another, become one another. Breezes that coax the leaves from their branches, sending them into the whirling winds. Every moment is a treasure, because the morning sunrise may never reflect off of the clouds in just that way again, casting the brightly colored leaves in soft pink light. There is no illusion of permanence in autumn.