My favorite time of year is not winter with its lingering gray and stillness, although the illusion of death in nature’s landscape is often startling at dusk or dawn. It is then celestial rays reveal a myriad of crystals playfully dancing in the trees or a new fallen blanket of white.

My favorite time of year is not spring with all its life bursting forth like fireworks, though it is breathtaking to see the kaleidoscope of colors and vivid green - yes green. Grass and leaves and bushes that fill the air with intoxicating aroma.

My favorite time of year is not summer with its seductive, balmy breezes and blue sky filled with billowy, friendly clouds. Still, how often the imagination of a child is brought to soaring heights from the observation of such shapes on a lazy afternoon.

No, none of these are my favorite.

My favorite time of year is fall. Yes, I am head-over-heals for fall. So many times I have seen myself building a cocoon in this season’s transition. I see the past, present, and future in the falling leaves. Leaves that were once green, but have changed…changed to deep, rich shades of gold, walnut, and cherry. How wonderful and magnificent they are, but for a short time. I feel the changes coming in the chilling winds that blow these leaves into lifeless gatherings. It is fall when I am truly aware of the precious, fleeting moment we must seize called life.