Golden, yellow, orange, and red. Colors God painted round the river bed. The air is crisp, with a hint of smoke. I tire and sit under the tall red Oak. Gazing around me, I notice it all. Death takes on beauty with the coming of Fall. Leaves change from green to their new chosen hue. Filling my eyes with this wonderful view. It will all be gone in a very short time. The loss of such beauty should indeed be a crime. I wonder why God made it happen this way. What do you suppose He was trying to say? Perhaps that there should be honor in death. Noted beauty in taking that one final breath. For there is great majesty in the glory of Fall. Just look at the canvas He paints for us all.