I awoke this morning in my southern New England home to the sound of the wind pushing against the house. Outside the sky was a crisp blue. The multi-colour leaves of autumn were lining up like golden sky-divers; waiting for their cue to leap from the trees and then tumble and dance down the hilly road.
The wind breathes excitement and animation outside my window. The heavy foliage of summer stops the hanging green frog from spinning over our deck. But now the fall has come and the cover is thinned, so that you can see patches of sky, the frog spins madly throwing off spirals of reflected light. Speedy, Sparky and their friends that inhabit the grassy bank, are nervous. The sweet smelling autumn wind moves everything and drowns out the normal sounds of safety. The change of air is tangible to them as they stand on their hind legs, twitching and sniffing. The small mammals are obvious now because they are the only stationary things. Ironic that they should be so exposed by the very act that helps keep them safe at other times.
In the front of the house, the verdant green canopy transforms into boney black fingers that point skywards accusingly. “The sky took the leaves, the sky took the leaves.” they say and the sky is guilty as charged.
Later, as I left the house, the wind pushed me urgently from behind as I walked, “Move along, move along. No time to hang around, it is coming.”
And later still, in the car the radio tells me that indeed, snow has fallen in the north already. I am dismayed to realise that it is dark at both the 6.30s that occur in any twenty-four hours.
The wind excites us with its news but it will be gone tomorrow leaving the horrible realisation that the better parts of the year are beyond reach now and soon the heavy cold grey blanket will replace the blue. We will retreat to our homes and burrows. The spiraling green frog will be taken down and stored along with the cheery summer lanterns that line the paths around us. Collect your firewood and admire the last few stubborn leaves then hunker down. Winter isn’t long now.
<Enter stunningly witty and clever tagline here>
Bazza
Title from 'To Autumn' by John Keats
But you can't see the critters (even if they are standing still) because of all the leaves on the ground!
ReplyDeleteHi
ReplyDeleteThanks for commenting.
The piece is meant more to invoke the feeling of encroaching winter than be an exact litery picture.
Having said that, the leaves that were already on the ground were still being pricked by the wind so that Speedy was still quite obvious.
Thanks though and keepreading even thruogh your hibernation.