Fall Is My Favorite

Fall is my favorite time of year - I grieve when it passes. Not that I have anything against winter, snow and sub-zero temperatures because those too have their virtues, beauty, and of course, Christmas.
But the light in Autumn lingers as if to wring out the last drop of glorious color from late roses, reluctant mums, shivering aspens, flaming maples and staunch oaks. Unhurried, yet aware of the warmer days slipping into the night of winter, I soak up long shadows on fading grass, the corn rows rustling in the wind, flamboyant early sunsets, and red glazed diner plate moon. This is the season of wrap ups: The pond water drops too cold to feed the Koi. There's one last bike ride along the trail before hunting season begins. One last road trip before the snow flies. One last tour of the garden, pulling up tomato cages, coiling hoses, discarding dead vines, and remnants of summer's rich bounty before the earth is adorned in its white winter coat. One last intoxicating gaze upon all the jewel tones of this crowning season, to inhale the brisk crips air and earthy scent of harvest before nature beds down for fozen slumber. Autumn is my favorite time of year because the earth peacfully falls to sleep in complete confidence of resurrection.