Friday, 3 September 2010

End of Summer

photo by Sebastian Jennison

      Leaves begin to curl as if a lit match has gently graced their edges.  
      Squirrels prance in waning grass with finds as large as their heads, weighing their bodies down as they scamper up the trees.  
      A redbird flirts with me just outside my window hinting at the change he feels in the air.  
      A hawk with a wingspan the size of my six year old dives in the yard; he is surely looking for the chipmunks that have scurried with abandon the past few days beginning their storage for upcoming seasons.
      Once dignified annuals and perennials droop to bid a fond adieu while pleading for their lives, “get yourself organized-quick-and find a place for me indoors,” they seem to be telling me (that is not likely I sadly think to them).  
      The sun shines bright and steams my skin while simultaneously a slight chill in the breeze whispers of fall's impending arrival.  
      Eyes itch, mucus drips, colds arrive heralding that the healing sun is deciding a respite is needed as plants are releasing their death-dander.  
      Children sense the difference in the atmosphere and incessantly inquire, “when will it be snowing?” “what is the next season?” “how much longer can we swim in the lake?” I want to say forever
      I want to live where death does not come seasonly and our world does not freeze over.  
     Then I am reminded, if not for death, how would we learn the blessed lesson of rebirth?

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