Autumn

Jack Frost, towers over us, waiting, patiently for the perfect time, to send chills down our spine. The evergreens stand tall looking at the pesky deciduous. Leaves make a flowing carpet, fit for a queen. The reflections cluster in a small delicate puddle. The spit starts then grows into the icy water. Clouds cluster blocking the sun from view.  Dew drops hang on tight until the wind starts to spray it's invisible frost. The chills creep down the mountain side.

By Daisy