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A Californian Fall.

goldinfifty:

The flaming bushes blood-drenched frost-fired tips cascade multi-story, as though pouring from the crimson open mouth arch of molten sun—its blood-orange dripping ambered-golden breadth upon the horizon. Limpidly stained and flailing fire shards of glistening soggy glass testaments gripped tight by the sooty spider-legged tentacling branches of winter; beside the budding ultramarine glass green sparks of the coming spring.