Love your photographs. I would be here hours were I to remark upon each one, not that they are not worthy, only that it should strike me as rather excessive and presumptive on my part to bog you down with such language when truly, the photos do themselves justice far better than any words I might use to convey their natural beauty. There is a sweetened sorrow in the leaves of autumn, rather like an ancient soul who holds dignity intact through a solemn acceptance of his condition and grows the more beautiful the closer his passing - a final flourish that begets his dying breath.
Love your photographs. I would be here hours were I to remark upon each one, not that they are not worthy, only that it should strike me as rather excessive and presumptive on my part to bog you down with such language when truly, the photos do themselves justice far better than any words I might use to convey their natural beauty. There is a sweetened sorrow in the leaves of autumn, rather like an ancient soul who holds dignity intact through a solemn acceptance of his condition and grows the more beautiful the closer his passing - a final flourish that begets his dying breath.
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