What’s the Hurry?
A busy wind rushes through canopies filled with turning leaves and frantic squirrels. Against a purple sky gleam brushes of yellow and orange foliage. Thin limbs dancing with abandon are watched by stoic, solid elders. The elders know soon enough they will be pushed to bending, and they will give just enough. No reason to rush.
The air smells panicky, the wind sounds disordered. I wonder if I should be worried but all around me is such ephemeral beauty that I don’t want to seek shelter. We mammals respond to autumn with greed; we want more of everything. More color, more crisp crunches under our feet, more glimpses of what was and what is to come.
A few drops of rain hit my face. I am far enough from home that I know I will be drenched before long. Above, a slow growl of thunder announces the intent of this deep purple sky. Get on with it then, I think. We’re ready – all of us.