Another fall is here. It's my 68th. The trees will soon turn in color and the breeze will start to be cooler, and for many of us, it is the beginning of a new year rather than it being of the end of this year.
Fall is my favorite time of the year. It's as if the cooler weather and the brightness of the reds, yellows, greens and browns renews in me the vitality of life.
As the leaves begin to change, the lush, electric green of summer is beginning to shrivel, molt and fall into shades of orange, yellow and brown. The trees are stretching their branches for the last time.
The grass is dewy and starting to be covered by leaves from the surrounding trees.
The sidewalks brace themselves for the weight of bags of leaves that will soon be placed on them.
In the shed the rakes and tarps are set by the back door soon to be used in the war of the never-ending falling leaves.
The moon looks bright and full at night. It can been seen more clearly through the cool fall air. The sun is bright, and against a deep blue sky gives one a breathtaking view of the mountains off in the distance.
The children, as well as some adults, can be seen playing in the mound of leaves.
When I was young, my mother would gather the leaves and paste them into scrapbooks with pictures of us playing in them.
The summer clothes are packed and the sweaters and scarves and gloves are brought out.
The overcoats and snow boots are put in the closet waiting for that first big snow.
The leaves begin to pile on the lawn, and the breeze begins to carry more and more of them to our neighbor's lawn.
A fire is lit in the fireplace to ease the chill in the air. At dinner hot apple cider is served. The cider gives off a warm glow within. The talk turns to the coming of Halloween and the costumes we children will wear.
I used to take pictures of the beautiful colored leaves for my scrapbook. The leaves were photographed to remind me of falls gone by, yet as I look at them today I do not see the colored leaves in the picture but remember those who were around me. Somehow we begin to lose a part of ourselves that made the photograph so beautiful.
I sit here in the park on the first day of autumn, watching the leaves dance above the grass. I notice their beauty and spend minutes staring at the pretty colors in the branches above them. People stroll along through the falling leaves. They laugh and reach out to catch the leaves as they fall. Yong lovers hug and kiss, and older folks draw nearer.
The fall season is a motif of nature's beauty.