Image four

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  Falling leaves make me think of how little control we actually have over some aspects of life. In autumn, leaves naturally start to change color and detach from their trees; people naturally start to change as they get older, both physically and mentally. Like the falling leaves, we can't control how we change. It's a response to our environment. Teenagers especially are easier to represent with this metaphor, because teen years are when you go through puberty; something you have no control over. Appearances begin to change as hormones activate and deactivate; this is similar to leaves shifting color as chlorophyll shuts down, depriving them of the greenish shades normally present.

Sometimes you can't control what goes on in your thoughts, like who you like. That just seems to happen without warning. While this doesn't exactly happen with leaves, it's an involuntary response.

If leaves could 'control' how they shifted colors, and people could 'control' what goes on with their bodies and minds, life would start to become predictable. Some of the beauty in autumn lies in seeing what colors the leaves end up being, and the beauty in life is that it takes its own course with everyone- just like every tree's leaves fall at their own pace.

Image three

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"I thought you could paint them." Lola handed the photograph to Vikki, who regarded it with interest. "It's different from what you usually paint, but they're really beautiful. My mama has an entire planter filled with them."

"Censina enjoys her idiosyncrasies," the artist murmured.

The young girl tilted her head. "Why are they called black tulips if they're dark purple?"

Vikki bit her lip, thinking. "Because they're...different. They stand out, and they don't seem to mind." At Lola's confusion, she gave her a half-smile. "You've seen how tall they grow, they're no wallflowers."

Lola giggled. "You remind me of one. A black tulip, I mean."

"Hm?"

"Well, you're different. No one else has mismatched eyes, and it makes you pretty. You don't care what people say about you, and you stand out." She paused. "It's like how these tulips stand out among the lighter ones. Like putting a charcoal stick between pink oil pastels."

Image two

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(OK, this is very similar to Afrida's image of falling dominoes, but I was inspired.)
I feel as if dominoes can represent a very precarious situation, both literally and figuratively. With one push, a long line of dominoes can collapse in on itself; so can life. If you build up a series of lies that you base everything on, there are complications. Someone who finds enough information can expose you, and bam- there goes your entire career, tumbling like a knocked-over domino line.
A domino is made of a rather solid material, so you would expect some sturdiness; however, its design prevents it from being entirely so. Humans have survived for thousands of years, so one would expect us to be...sturdier, I guess. But people don't always learn, and the lines of dominoes keep getting built up and knocked down, over and over.

Image one

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The clock had broken, and it was impossible to tell if it was night or day. Far in the distance, the clouds were colored a buttery orange, embraced on all sides by a softer gray shade. She could discern no hint of color in the trees below; it was probably right before dawn.
In the peaceful atmosphere, she had lost all sense of time. She watched the light reflect off the water, staring at the two small isles beyond the wooded peninsula where she had been sailing mere hours ago (if indeed they were hours).
Looking at the horizon, she let herself be immersed in the indescribable serenity of her surroundings. She wished they could stay at this moment in time forever, and not return to the bustling city. Even the ache of deviating from her familiar routines didn't disturb the silence.
She closed her eyes, listening to the waves wash distantly against the shore.