Autumn

 

Fall is a giant windmill tearing and tugging at the last vestiges of summer, pulling the green leaves from their stations, ending their mission of feeding the trees with sunlight. Leaves flutter down like high aspirations dislodged from their place of inspiration. Like brightly colored airplanes lost to disrepair, plummeting into a silent secluded forest. Change is inevitable and bound to happen although it is not always welcome. In the woods nymphs recite their annual summer dirge:

 

A light breeze passes through the valley

The geese are deciding not to tarry

Caterpillars in their wooly thick coats shiver

Winter is coming with all it delivers

The petals drop from the summer flowers

As the plants think of Winter and begin to cower

Summer furniture disappears from the yards

Packed away with disregard

Rakes and bags are brought out on the lawns

To harvest the leaves that the trees will spawn…

 

The nymphs sing on and on in countless verses too numerous to mention, that would run right off this page and into oblivion.

The breeze turns into a gust as it passes up into the hills awaking the trees from their sonorous summer slumber. A cold crispness is in the air as the leaves haphazardly plan their last-minute graduation party. Wishing each other, “Best of Luck!” and “I’ll see you down below,” lying to each other optimistically, while knowing this is not meant to be. The leaves begin to twist and turn as the filial graduates break away to scatter on the breeze, waving and crying, reminiscing and sighing, jumping into the wind hopeful of their outcome. Twisting and turning, spinning and whirling, flipping and flopping, floating and gliding, landing, rolling, slapping and sliding, carried far and wide they land to create a dazzling multicolored quilt that the tree roots, plants and insects will gratefully wrap themselves in, tucked under their chins, before the onset of winter. Fall is here.

 

Jim    12/21