Two things beautiful

The sun was a ball of fire this morning. It was indeed a beautiful sight. The color was no ordinary color red. It had the history of the past days written all over its face. The smoke put a veil of gauze over the blue to haze the sky and cast an orange eerie hue over the land, the Indian summer was a reminder of fires past. The haze imprisoned the heat and jealously guarded the valley of heart's delight.

I found a leaf under the Asian pear tree. The leaf was yellow and red and green, like the flag of Benin or maybe Bolivia but much more vibrant. The red had the color fire, and the green was still so fresh. There was a brown spot in the middle. The perfection of the imperfect.