I felt the winds change, I felt the seas rise, & I felt my heart fall. The leaves are dropping to carpet the ground in flame and Golden hues. The Skye thickened, oppressing me as the trees stored their sap & animals burrowed winter dens.
This is the season of Melancholy, the time of rest, & the time to take a breath to let it slowly out & sink in the crisp night Aires.
This is the season of dreams of summer & spring. Of worms dancing in the soil & frogs singing in creeks & ponds.
#microfiction
The Harvest is done & the stores full. The field is left to the mice to find the last bits for their own winter stores. The root cellar is full & the basement shelves stocked with jars of pickles and preserves.
The children love to run through the barren lands, scarves trailing in the brittle air. And I love to watch them from the porch. Ready to heat the cider when they turn back to the house while cornbread bakes and the beef stew slowly simmers.