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Now, It's Autumn

The autumn equinox turned the skies nearly a month ago now. Even then, the dry, yellowed grasses waved impassively in the still, warm air. The leaves, while glowing here and there with color, tended to crackle and fall from branches before lighting up the woods. The parched earth gave no indication that the summer had ended. Even the hazy yellow light hung in the air, rather than the crisp, golden light of fall. And we waited, and the world lazily waited. But now, it's autumn.
The first rains came trickling down some days back, and the slugs awakened. The first few wooly bears grubbed across the sun-warmed roadways shortly after. The crickets began chirping in the meadows, and the buzzing, droning, flying things of summer began seeking shelter. Ladybugs and boxelders began appearing on my windows yesterday, searching for the ways inside that all these old houses graciously provide for them. They will climb inside and gather together in great knots, somewhere out of sight, until the spring comes around again. And for now, they will sleep awhile.

Little birds are coming to the dilapidated feeder dangling outside my window. Birds I haven't seen for months. Juncoes and finches and sparrows, and even a little wren. The bluejays who hatched in my garden early in the summer are back now, looking for food to fatten them up through the winter. Crows gather by the hundreds in the trees just east of here. And last night, last night it rained. Not the light trickle of a few days back, but good and hard, and drenched the parched earth, and quenched the thirsty roots and brought the autumn crocuses up out of the ground and washed away the golden dust of summer.

And today, today it is fall. Because today, as I lie on a cozy nest of pillows and gaze out through the foggy mist at the steel grey waters of the Columbia, today I see the geese returning. I heard them first. And then I smiled. And then, they came roiling into view. Long, laughing, tumbling strands of raucous, joyous geese came soaring over the nest where I lay, writing laugh lines above the steely water, and disappearing, strand after strand, into the curling mists. And it will be like this now, while we wait for the cold winter to approach. Great Vs and cartoon lines of geese will come and come and come now. Soon, they will begin circling the skies here and then roiling out of the clouds and settling down into the waters, as they make their way to wherever it is that they go when the winter comes. And today, today it is autumn. Blessed Be.
Cool 15.Oct.2006 16:33

Rainbow Weaver the dot daily dot shaman @ gmail dot com

Thank you for this. Really, Thank you.

rw-


What a beautiful picture 15.Oct.2006 16:45

paula

Thank you so much. At first I was just a little sad about the rain, but after reading this, I took another look outside. The colors are still remarkable and the day is good. I think I might have missed it if you had not written. Now I sit by my window and look at this beautiful day and remember that all of this is what really matters.

nice read 15.Oct.2006 19:35

jason

i went for an amazing walk up the wildwood trail through hoyt arboretum today. the leaves were extraordinary and the trails serene. it was an amazing day.

Thanks 16.Oct.2006 08:35

ctrl-z

Very well written. Really captures the feeling of the change. If you aren't writing professionally, you should be.

Be here now. 16.Oct.2006 08:52

Day of rest.

It is a great day.

thankyou 17.Oct.2006 23:01

m frijolita01@hotmail.com

i shared this, as a child of the universe, and it was a very lovely thing to find your description here...
especially loved the pause for beautiful truth, amongst all the regular horrors