If seasons were colors, Autumn would be orange. But not your typical, bright, obnoxious orange; rather, somewhat like burnt sienna. Still vibrant and warm like its predecessor, Summer, but with a hint of restraint. Like a youngling who, deep inside, is actually an old soul. Or better yet, a grownup who never lost their childlike wonder. After all, if spring is about new life, then perhaps Autumn would be somewhere within the 40s age bracket?
