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.