There laid upon the cold damp ground, lays the colour of Autumn. With in each leaf is painted its own rich colour.
Shallow puddles sit still reflecting images of the world around. Like mirrors upon the ground.
A passing cyclist rides fast and steady braking the reflection in the fluid mirror of high rise buildings of flats and offices. modern builds sit next to old.
I stand and watch agains a wall of a church, the world around. people getting frustrated at tourists not sure where they are going. A couple standing at the crossing but not wanting to cross. The driver of the car waving his hand at them the spending off. In their own little world of selfishness.
The Autumn air damp and cold making me feel nostalgic for the warmth of my sofa and blanket and an irish hot chocolate.
Unlocking my phone I read a message.
“I’m going to be late… The tube not running.”
I exit with out responding and search though my music to find a song to suit the mood…
(eight bars to open)
“The summer sun is fading as the year grows old,
And darker days are drawing near,
The winter winds will be much colder,
Now you're not here.”
A cold wind blows the leafs and plastic bag and sweet rapers that lay upon the floor, around like a small cyclone.
The cold air brings a chill making me pull my scarf up closer around my neck trying to keep warm
Distorted refections of the city in the shallow puddles like broken mirrors.
The rich colours of autumn painted on each fallen leaf that laid upon the ground, in pools of water like abstract art behind glass.
“I watch the birds fly south across the autumn sky
And one by one they disappear,
I wish that I was flying with them
Now you're not here.
Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on a breeze you blew away…”
Making me wish for bright Autumn days. Dry and sunny, fallen leaves raked in to the piles, all crisp and bright of colour. deceiving empty blue sky’s casting the illusion of summer. As birds fly swift to warmer lands, in an unbroken formation they glide low in the autumn summer sky projecting shadows over the open field. The almost baron trees on its boundary in the distance, hiding the buildings of the town that seams so far away. Their once green vibrant leaves now rich shades of autumns colours. Red, golden orange and browns lie on green grass. Morning dew rests where shadows fall. like diamond powder dust sprinkled over night.
“Through autumn's golden gown we used to kick our way,
You always loved this time of year
Those fallen leaves lie undisturbed now
'Cause you're not here
'Cause you're not here
'Cause you're not here “
Memory’s of crisp leaves under foot as played and kicked the pile s high creating autumn’s rainbow of fallen leaves. Wrapped up warm form the cold dry wind. Morning sun warms our smiles as walk.
“Like the sun through the trees you came to love me,
Like a leaf on the breeze you blew away…"
A sudden cold wind, and the sound of the horn from a London bus brings me back to city. Reminding me to to finish my walk along the concert path with its shallow puddles reflecting images of the world around, like mirrors upon the ground. Distorted refections and faded colours like abstract art behind disfigured glass.
The Autumn air damp and cold making me wish for brighter milder Autumn days. With rich shades of autumns colours. Red, golden orange and browns. Instead of the shades of blues and greys with faded oranges and neon lights. Reflected in the grey distorted mirrors, like windows to another world.
“A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes
As if to hide a lonely tear
My life will be forever autumn,
'Cause you're not here
'Cause you're not here
'Cause you're not here”
Leaving the coffee shop with a hot drink in hand a light rain fills the air. my music fades then stops. Allowing me to hear the world round.
The setting sun casts gloom over the city. Making me once more feel nostalgic for the warmth of my sofa and blanket. and the hot chocolate that I hold in both hands to warm them would be much sweeter with a dash a brandy.
People with umbrellas pulled low paying no attention to whom they might be walking in to . in their own little worlds, not moving aside. Pulling my hood up in vain to keep a little dry while on the walk to work.
With shallow puddles that sit still reflecting images of the world around. Like mirrors upon the ground. Distorted refections of the world around.
Turning on to the small back street that leads me to work, the rain grows heavier. watch as cast and crew head in from the cold, while some stand sheltering in the fire exit to finish a cigaret, in the cold damp autumn air, where laid upon the cold damp ground, lays the colour of Autumn. With in each leaf is painted its own colours of autumn.
