The harvest over, the smell of
freshly baked apple pie wafted on the air. Peaches were canned. The boards on
the porch creaked to the rhythm of the old rocker swaying gently back and forth
in the coolness of late autumn. The leaves of the branch that hung precariously
over the porch roof had gone from green to gold to gone. The faint smell of paint
– red paint - lingered outside the walls. All was ready for the winter storms
that were sure to come all too soon.
I remember it as if it were yesterday. It was long ago…
If this makes no sense to you at all, just click on the link above and you'll see the photo Jenny chose...so, there ya have it...and no photo from me... (not to worry, though, if you're feeling deprived, just go to the next posting on my blog and you'll have more pictures than you know what to do with... have fun!
7 comments:
"...from green to gold to gone."
Love that!
=)
Lovely descriptive terms. I enjoyed it.
I really like how you incorporated seasonal changes with all the sensory detail. It's a beautiful read.
The old rocker brought back memories of my grandmother, rocking me on the big veranda in the evening. Beautiful piece!
nice. may I please have a piece of pie.
I want that freshly baked pie....of please cuz I could smell it baking all the way to here in Minnesota! Nicely done!
I am enchanted.
"...from green to gold to gone."
Wow.
That was a lovely line.
But the whole story was filled with poignant memory and the heartache of times gone past.
Wow.
This was an absolutely perfect use of this difficult prompt.
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