'Tis fall, my most loved, though most short lived, of seasons!! So, to commermorate the chilly air, bright colours, and the aquisition of a new pen for my tablet and long needed revival of DigArt, here is a fox. Don't know why, but there you have it.

Now, because my skills in poetry seem to be limited to spite, cynicism and irony, and poetic imagery is no ones forte in fall (cause everything rhymes with everything. Except orange...), featured in this piece is John Muir's poem, possibly titled "Fall Poem", ingeniously and such:

[The winds will blow their own freshness into you,
and the storms their energy,
while cares will drop away from you
like the leaves of Autumn.]

If there's anything to be said for simplicity, i guess it's John Muir.
Enjoy the calm before the blizzard my loves!