It's subtle, but unmistakable. In my world of silence, I see so much more. I hold my breath, and I listen while the world rushes by on currents of haste and speed.
Who listens? Who notices?
The seasons are turning again. The cycle of newness amidst the decay of the old. There is a hint of autumn in the air. It is laced with the smell of crisp leaves turning lighter, turning yellow.