The Fall, The Snow.

Winter, winter, winter. What am I going to do with you? Your looming presence is visible everywhere. Already the skies grow grey, preparing for your arrival. The leaves shrivel in response to your heartless chill. 

I don't want you to come.

I'm a lover of autumn. The crisp blue skies sweeping above the multitudinous shades of red, orange and yellow leaves leaves me in awe. The warm, almost loving caress of honey colored gold sunlight makes me feel grateful to be alive. And then, when I walk under the canopy of those ever-changing leaves, with nothing but silence to accompany me, I feel peace. True, unequivocal serenity.  I become a little more aware if who I am. 

But everything is eventual. Winter will come. Perhaps this year I will find solace in the gentle cascade of white, blanketing the world. Or maybe I'll find joy in the way the snowflakes resemble softly lit falling stars, illuminated by the street lamps as I walk home at night. Perhaps. We'll see.