rejectomorph

Wind has persisted, and the walnut tree is now naked. The mulberry still has plenty of leaves to drop, even though much of the front lawn is already buried in a mass of yellow. The pine needles have been blown into oddly arranged drifts on the driveway. They could be large glyphs, but I have no idea what they might mean, other than that winter is on its way. December is finally here, and I can't wait to be done with it.

Here