I was walking in a wood of flame.

Around me were the colors of autumn. A chill breeze now and again whispered of approaching whiteness, but for now fire still held sway.

I stopped at a bridge that echoed the colors around it. In the ancient wood I saw the reds, yellows, and a hint of the lost green.

As I crossed, I felt for a second the fire on my skin. Heard the crackling of flames. Smelled the burning.

Later I would mourn this vision, as the leaves disappeared and all was covered.

But for now, I was home.