Hayes of summer days yield

Hayes of summer days yield


Last of the Southern winds whisper across fields from where the Hayes of summer days yield to the upcoming threatening silhouette brewing in the northern hemispheres,
Warm blooded birds take flight to evade dark and treacherous skies looming over the horizon. Your summer is done fly south away to  endless sunshine, tropical islands await.
Beaches are displaced by the violence of crushing surface and underline turmoil from Atlantis surge collide with unknown fisherman  who curse this day as the twilight of summer draws to an end with the gloom of winter, the reality of what is to come.
Offshore winds bring mayhem to the fruits of labor invested to keeping groomed gardens as the red rose dies on the vine only to hibernate and wait for the spring, beach homes brace waiting for the onslaught of the foreseen storms approaching.
The moment has come, ascending from the darkness to a blank canvas of nature’s crystal white which transformed the summer landscape to a jack frost playground, the brisk of winter is here. From the glum, children emerge  to the new playground, snowmen and snowballs are the order of the day. Hot chocolate and smoke for the fireplace ends the evening as frigid temperatures stalk the landscape for its next unexpected quarry.





GW @copyright 2015912210