fall

Autumn is tentative at first, it comes as a smell in the dawn hours of the first cool mid August day. It's fresh, like new leather and ice; it bring promise, and a warning: It is not long you have before the icy cold engulfs you, stack your firwood under the eaves, clear the ashes from your fireplace, cast your coat upon the hook, harvest your squash after first frost, winter is on its way.

In early September, autumn brings rain. The skies pour down, drenching the summer parched land. The day comes in late September when on an early morn you don your flannel and step outside only to realize one of the trees in your yard has caught fire, the autumn blaze has begun. Over the next few weeks the fire spreads, casting its blazing glory upon the woods. As the leaves begin to drop, the promise it made in August proves true: The air chills at the bare trees and the fires bank in the evening. The geese take note and fly, the grass withers and dies. In time, snow will fly and light will hide, the holidays will come and go. For now I will sit in my armchair by the fire, watching the world change.