what do I do when the leaves are dead?

what do I do with this road ahead?

i'll walk the stretch, and clear the way,

but my feet won't move today. 

what do I do when these trees are surreal?

Gentle waves curl over themselves

Like blue and white ribbons

Twirling together to captivate the eyes

The sky is in flames

Shades of orange and red

Reach through the blue

To you

you who lives among our rainbow hills--

green one moment

orange the next

and always blue in the distance--

you who lives along a river

you who lives looking into sunsets

you and you

It’s 6 AM at the end of September, and Vermont's trees are transitioning into their autumn beauty. The mornings are my favorite: the quiet, peacefulness, and calm of the world are one of a kind.

I put my turn signal on and pull off of the pavement. I open my car door and breathe in the spring air. I see new leaves, green, on the trees, and potholes that I dodge and jump as I start skipping.

I live for these moments. 

Moments that make you forget anything but remember everything all at once. 

It's quiet. Just the rumbling of the car. My friend is asleep next to me, their head on my shoulder. I open the windows. The breeze is nice and cool and rustles my hair. As soon as the window is open, it reveals the sound of crickets.

My roadtrip is different than the average.

Unless, I suppose, you consider water a road.