By Romae Martone, Williston Central School

The street lights are just turning off, the ground is wet, Vermont is soaked to the bone. A light wind that dares to disturb the otherwise still morning runs gentle hands through my hair, leaves that still hang on trees are holding on for dear life not wanting to make the plummet.

The cold air tries to encompass us and we walk. Rotting pumpkins sit sadly on front steps, ready to be thrown in the trash. Rotten smiles and decomposing eyes watch as we walk in the early morning.

The ground is littered with shades of red oranges and browns. Not many colors to look at, the beauty has faded. The earth is getting ready for sleep, not even the geese that fly overhead make a sound. We tuck our hands into our jackets trying to hide them away from the cold morning air. Our quiet murmurs and timid laughter seems to stand still in the crisp fall morning air. The fog is thickest in the morning. Like a curtain keeping us from moving on with the day. It makes it seem as though the world has been put on pause all around us.

Some snow may fall during the day but it never sticks. The earth is not ready to go to bed yet, it seems like it still needs a bedtime story. The sun has taken a day off letting the dark clouds hang above our heads, threatening us with even more rain. We can’t hear the birds’ songs anymore. All that fills the air is fog, chilly air, and the rustle of leaves from a critter trying to stash an acorn. We get ready for the earth to be blanketed in snow but until then we settle for frosty mornings and blue cloudless skies.