Fires of Autumn
Each step carries me deeper into the lilting light. Webs festoon the trees and glint off the grasses. It is a noisy walk with each step crackling and insects frantically zipping about. They are pushed by an awareness of the cool damp of the morn replaced with the heat of the autumn afternoon. Butterflies are determined and flap with vigor and resolve. Birds are moving, gathering, and leaving. I long to hit the road with them, to be free.
The pathways all seem in dreamstate with hazy pastels tumbled together like spilled paints. The long summer is winding down and a melancholy reaches across the landscape. The sun picks out yellows of the senescent vegetation and short winds flip up small dust devils. The sky is metallic at the edges and grows into a light cerulean cap above.
The aching sadness of September light reminds me of watching a child grow. They are both so perfect each moment.
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