I am known for my color, but I do not actually have that color. You might look up and see me.

I resemble myself at many scales. My edge can grow without bound while my space stays bounded. You’ll find me in nature, but only across a finite span of sizes.

I bear a small sunny crown upon the green, like a tiny short-lived sunbeam, because with just one sigh, I trade my gold for wings and fly. Make a wish, then let me go, What am I? I think you know.

I fall and never break the earth, I guide the writer's hand, I teach a hunter's tool to fly, then sleep in dust and sand.

I am used to gather, but I am not used to store. You can find me in The fall.