Walk outside and take a deep breath of air. Do you feel it? Smell it? It's autumn, folks, and it's my favorite time of the year. I used to wonder if I had a favorite season, but then I realized that every fall, my blood would sing, my spirit would soar with exhilaration, and my eyes would dance from all the brilliant colors around me.
I really love this season. The trees all dressed in their elegantly brilliant hues: gold, crimson, orange. I encounter one tree each day that looks like it is on fire, the leaves are so vibrantly red. For someone who loves color as much as I do, the trees provide a feast for the eyes, and all I want to do is look at them, take pictures of them, and soak in the colorful rays. Even when the leaves fall to the earth, they look like confetti decorating the green lawn--I love the contrast.
The season's first frost was upon us, in my town. I walked outside slightly before dawn and had to scrape my windows. I didn't mind. I like how the world looks with a light frosty coat.
The air smells crisp and clear. I've heard this is better in other areas, but I think the air is nice here too. I inhale and inhale, enjoying the feeling of the cold air in my lungs, the smell of wood stoves and warmth and soups on the wind. I like how I walk in from a jaunt outdoors and my cheeks and nose are blushed and my eyes feel brighter.
Soon the leaves will fall off and fade away, raked into piles by industrious folks. I won't mind--I'll just have to wait again for my favorite season so I can revel in all it's glory. (And by then, winter's promises of snow will claim my attentions...)
2 comments:
when i first read your last paragraph, i thought you had written "leaves raked into piles by industrious forks." that image excites me, and with your permission, i'd love to use it in a future poem.
i love fall too. love it. burning wood smells like home.
It's my favorite season too. I could do without all the grayness that we've been having for what seems like forever, though.
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