Comments about kipper Stagg
An autumn day with chilled wind whips dry leaves in front of every step I take,
An ancient tree groans and creaks and gently sways
As I pass it sending warning of the coming winter preparations we must make
Whilst a squirrel scurries past in haste gathering provisions and hesitates in curiosity watching as I wend my way.
This wind teases me and like a child, steals my hat and runs away taunting me to chase it like a school playground game from my youth
Red leaves fall like a thousand flame