Every leaf of the tree becomes a page of the book, once the heart is opened and it has learnt to read.
The falling leaf that tells of autumn's death is, in a subtler sense, a prophecy of spring.
October is the fallen leaf, but it is also a wider horizon more clearly seen.
I possess the greatest power ever bestowed upon mankind, the power of choice. Today, I choose to persist without exception. No longer will I live in a dimension of distraction, my focus blown hither and yon like a leaf on a blustery day. I know the outcome I desire. I hold fast to my dreams. I stay the course. I do not quit.
As she read, at peace with the world and happy as only a little girl could be with a fine book and a little bowl of candy, and all alone in the house, the leaf shadows shifted and the afternoon passed.
Summer passes into autumn in some unimaginable point of time, like the turning of a leaf.