As I walk on the leaves they crunch underfoot. I look up. Her arms are reaching to the sky even as her leaves fall away, leaving her naked, exposed, vulnerable to the cold winds and the hard rains and the bitter snows. But she stands just the same, arms outstretched awaiting the promise of things to come. She has let the past fall away piece by piece down to the ground, never to be worn again.
Her audacity is palpable, her courage unshakeable as she falls apart, piece by piece, knowing of the inevitable renewal she will find. She is love.