High October

The tail of summer is a fire-breathing dragon dripping kernels of crimson and gold from the sky as the sun becomes a phoenix streaming past on a steady migration towards winter.

Hay dapples the fields in golden bales of moonlight while scarecrows button up their flannel shirts. The cold is coming. Summer is gone. It is the season of Autumn, when the leaves fall and the storm clouds linger.

Candied cornstalks whisper to one another of winter’s long slumber as springtime dreams are nestled away under the folds of tilled earth.

The crisp scent of apples laces its fingers through the air like a handshake of welcome while bat wings cloak the night sky and spiders retreat into pumpkin patches.

Coarse grains of stardust sift past as the trees shiver in the cooling breeze. Shedding their leafy coats. Brown paper bags left scattered and crumbling along the ground rustling with the telltale crunch of a forager working its way across the field.

Sugary rainwater gently washes away residue left behind by summer’s retreating warmth as darkness abounds, a black cat chasing after the moon.

Shimmering drops of light fall to the rhythm of popping corn while rain clouds stitched in place by fireflies blanket the landscape.

Bare branches tap in time as cool harmonies are blown through stiff cobwebs bristling in the night air.

High above the slippery elms, a lone owl sings a solo. Cheered on by the ringing applause of acorns colliding in the wind. She swoops low, her feathered belly brushing the tips of dewy grass, until she returns once again to soar on the arc of song.

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