Breezy winds sweep the leaves outside into an everlasting twister
And not even the birds come out to play on this very wicked day.
The rain falls in intermittent sheets
And the trees groan in both glee and protest
As their branches are whipped around and their leaves are strewn from their limbs,
The coming of winter used to be a peaceful time,
A time to go on a stroll to nowhere only to return when the sun had long since set beneath the horizon.
It was the time to put on a sweater and go to the beach to watch the waves lap lazily at the shore,
Sitting until you’re pleasantly chilly and the sun is just touching the ever present waves.
Now it’s the time to stay indoors
To read book after book because they’re going out of style faster than a groundhog can peek its head out of its hole.
It’s time to light the fire and wait for the next break in the storm,
To wait for relief.
Autumn is the time of death and mourning
Because although the trees are colorful and pretty those colors are a cry for help
And as nature sheds its pretty leaves they are left bare naked in the midst of a long, cold winter.
A winter that seems to never cease, that is unrelenting in its bitter freezing breath.
Autumn is the time for concerts that last way past our bedtime and go on until the early morning,
And as we come stumbling up the staircase we belatedly realize that we are too tired to notice that solid feeling of reality.
With Autumn comes the time of falling
Falling in love, and out of love, and into stories and out of situations that have long since boggled or mind.
And as we sit here, indoors, with the fire at full blast we think of fall.
The time of falling.