Autumns Fall

         As I step out through the back door, wind rushes in to greet me with the crisp clean scents of autumn. The wind is chill and tries to steal away my warmth, but the sun massages my bare arms and face with her warm golden fingers. I turn my face up to her and see her glimmering light flowing down upon me between an endless flock of billowy white-gray clouds sailing over an endless ocean of blue. On the ground their ghostly shadows sweep swiftly across the prairie as beams of sunlight chase tirelessly after them.

         On the painted canvas of lawn, leaves leap up from the ground and dance in the spotlights of sun shining through the branches of half barren trees. They twirl, tumble, and jump, then flutter and sway back to the ground as crickets sing their chirping songs. Off in the distance, from the green, shimmering slew, bullfrogs sing bass while some where down the road, a loose board thumps and taps adding rhythm to their song.

         As I delight in natures song, the tempo of the wind increases, while out on the dirt road, she breathes life into countless dust devils. They swirl and dance to her calling, then quickly vanish into the flowing grass beside the road. She whispers softly at first then more deeply she groans, “Winter is coming, a blizzard's at hand; snowfall is coming to cover the land!”

         Above me, a lone hawk sails upon the unseen currents of air. As he passes over, doves and squirrels scramble for the cover of evergreens. He cries out with a savage challenge to the barren ground below. Only the wind dares to answer his cry, as slowly he vanishes into the red, fiery horizon. With the glowing image of his flight into the blazing sunset etched deeply in my mind, I take a deep breath, then turn to go back inside.

         As I look back one last time, the gold and yellow grasses bow gallantly to me as the shadowy trees wave their outstretched arms. Are they bowing and waving to me, or to the autumn now over and soon to be carried away on the perpetual winds of time? Did I hear them whisper on the wind? “Good-bye.”

         Knowing by morning they will all sleep beneath a frosty blanket of new snow, I whisper back with tearful eye and heavy heart, "Goodnight."