I do so love the fall. The sweeping winds of September that are almost unnerving with their force, sending leaves skittering along the ground and flying wildly through the air, wedging themselves in impromptu places that joyfully embrace them. Some will not fail to find their way to me, and catch my heart in some nostalgic way that leads me to bring them inside and press them within the pages of some beloved book.
The yellows, reds, and oranges of the leaves send up a flare of fiery colour in the forest's readiness to sleep soundly after a long and hectic summer of growth. Rest is coming, and with it the rejuvenation of a nature spirit satisfied and happily spent. The firs ready themselves for the weight of the snow that will surely come with the peace and the quiet of the soft winter. Some birds prepare for their great journey, while other, more faithful birds fatten themselves up on autumn's fruit, stashing seeds from the feeder here and there in secrecy. Down from seedpods are collected and used to ready the summer nest for the cold of winter, even as their own down is beginning to grow on their breasts.
Critters settle into their dens, readying themselves for the season of less; of weary browns replacing the spent vibrancy of greens, of the white white world that is to come.
I pull out my warmer blankets, happily put away but just as happily returned like an old friend I'd forgotten that I missed. Sweaters that hug and chase away the bite of unaccustomed cold; old companions that grant me a few more weeks of writing outside before my fingers grow too stiff with cold.
The garden begins to fade away and the harvest is gathered. Happy bobbing flowers are replaced by seedpods and a promise for next spring when we are ready to be together again. Bright red fruits toss about like a tickled tot, clinging to their branches and not quite willing to take their tumble yet. Rosehips are collected for winter colds and spicy teas on winter nights.
Yet those nights are still to come. For now the fleeting fall has only just begun, winds with their bluster and changing leaves that will soon fill the air and our footsteps with the crackle and spicy scent of an autumn that too swiftly ends.
