As I was driving the other day I was struck by your beauty. I confess that while I’ve always found you beautiful and necessary, I also often think of you as being the death foretold as it relate to the coming winter. But this day as your colors shimmered across the nearby hills I realized that you are not only the harbinger of death, but the precursor of a necessary dormancy; the time to go internally in order to nourish inner seeds. You are also the valiant show and a grand celebration after the fertility of spring and the growth of summer.
Autumn, you belong to artists. Your brilliant displays of color are fueled by the sugars and nutrients of the year. You inspire leaves to float towards the ground like rainbow snowflakes or dancers in the breeze. Oh autumn, you remind us that grass is not green but every hue imaginable in expanses of meadows that vibrate with the hum of life. Your landscape is like the palate and canvas of the impressionist painter. Ever sport perfectly imperfect. Every bit sharing the vibrancy of life with the viewer.
Autumn, you encourages me to drink in my surroundings and be grateful for the beauty and plenitude around me.