Change of Seasons

The Weatherbug on my desktop reports 48 degrees. This is most exciting. Fall is in the air. But it isn’t just the thermometer that tells me this. The leaves have subtle changes in their colors. The geese and ducks are in constant formation, building their endurance for another flight south. Morning fog and extended hours of darkness tell of an approaching change.

I love fall. It is a season of crisp air, warm fires, fresh apples, and chrysanthemums. Mosquitoes meet their match in frosty autumn nights. Hay fever is reduced by the killing cold. Summer’s night sweat is replaced by warm, thick blankets on a cold bed.

I love fall. The maples explode to form a golden flower that stands forty feet in height. One look at the forest reveals a canvas of color which even the best painter cannot reproduce. Evening skies are ablaze with the setting sun. Clouds become soft and long strings of mist, bringing soft drizzle and light, cool rain.

I love fall. Every morning is filled with the call of water foul joining together in large groups, cutting a V through the new day light. Clouds of black birds and grackles darken the sky. They make their way high on a southern journey that takes them to a warmer world.

I love fall. The shortening day, the sounds of football, the crunch of fallen leaves under my feet, the sight of my breath frozen in the air for the first time that season…so many wonderful sights, sounds, and smells.

I love fall.


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