The Sneaking Way of Seasons

It’s early September and the grey evening air smells like October harvests. There is wood fire layered with cider upon the breeze. Fuzzy lined jackets don the casual couple out walking in the impending night air. The chill of the coming winter is not yet strong enough to warrant the tightly wrapped scarves that sit now snuggled in the sock draws of Washingtonians.

Winter is on her way, her frosty perfume precedes the snowflake sized footsteps that gradually bring her, unannounced and suddenly upon our doorsteps. I watch as the leaves turn then pirouette themselves down to lay in colorful decay upon the earth, a funeral gown of reds, golds, browns, and oranges.

The world is turning into a day of change from a night of memories. Cycling through and about that which is life.