last bits of fall

I reminisce about Fall afternoons spent on soccer fields, the grassy green pitch yielding to my every step as I run. Beneath a warm sun shining overhead, I lose myself in the game, and the world reduces to nothing more than a blur. Yet I know I subconsciously soak in my surroundings: the many colors of the leaves, flocks of birds beginning their migration to warmer climes, and squirrels gathering acorns for the dead of winter.

As the hour grows later, the orange glow of the setting sun reminds me of its presence with its long fingers reaching out across the landscape, crawling over rooftops and through tree branches. Everything in its way casts long shadows, keeping the sun at bay and leaving only as the sun himself recedes and submits to the dark of night. If I slow down long enough to notice, I feel these waning fingers, like a grandmother's hand, envelop me in a cocoon of heat before releasing me back into the gusty crisp air that can only signal the impending arrival of Winter.

As the last leaves wither and fall to the ground, leaving the trees bare and exposed to the ever chilling temperatures and whims of Mother Nature, here is a tribute to the most beautiful time of year. Until next September...