on the way home

... picture has been taken a few feet away from my house.
A little further up the road the trees are bare.
On my way home I thought of these songs of freedom,
the ones of redemption. Bob Marley came to mind.
Yes, the golden leaves are falling, mingling with the ground to transform themselves into earth, eventually.
The color and light unites with darkness of the earth while skeletons of naked trees are awaiting a covering mantle of snow to come.
Freedom? We are all conditioned and codependent to outer circumstances, like trees that follow seasons. But what sets us apart from trees is that we are not being put stationary. We actually have the liberty to move in space - and our minds are free to roam indefinitely.