Autumn is a Free-write

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Overthinking a free-write is so illogical I can’t stand it. I’m sitting here evaluating my thoughts and trying to understand what it is I am actually thinking; therefore, Im thinking about thinking. Inception… Yes. Fall is finally in the air, and all I can imagine are pumpkin patches and apple picking, and my Dad making Grandma’s homemade pies for Thanksgiving (which I know will fill him with necessary happiness,) Earth-toned sweaters which match the fallen leaves, curling up in bed guiltlessly, and wearing broken in boots effortlessly with imperfect jeans. Autumn is special because it does not have the pressure of constantly being sunny– leaves can crunch underneath your boots with a grayscale sky, and it is art. Trees become silhouettes, exposing their branches while letting go of their past season’s experience, preparing to rest before coming to life again. Autumn is not only a season but it is a definitive photo album of my life.

PROMPT

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