The sky is buttery cream, blurring softy with the tree tops. Flashes of gold flicker between the branches, and through the window one can hardly imagine the forbidden cold that lies just on the other side of the glass. The waters glow like crystalized roses, fading into grey as it slowly disappears over the horizon. The sun sinks a smidge more, and the golden trees transform into dark shadows against the intensely glowing sky of pinks, orange and gold. For a flash, all colors become vibrant, one last hurrah before the sun retreats for the night.
Grey, quiet, stillness. Dusk folds over the earth, a foreshadowing of the season to come. The crisp chill of the morning past is pushed away and replaced with a haunting cold. The motion forces leaves from their branches, fluttering to the ground in defeat. Solders lost in the fight of the season’s bitter sweet transformation.
Darkness. Winter is almost here. The sky turns to black lit only by a thin line of the moon crescent smiling sideways at its victory over the day. Earth and sky become one, differentiated only by darker shadows outlining tree tops and the clouds rolling in.
Luckily for us all, morning will soon return again. And the battle of winter is lost at least one more day to its mediator – fall. Until your last stance of the year, I’ll be right here with you, holding on to summer’s sun until the last leaf falls. Here’s to your graceful passing, and your return in the years to come when the battle is inevitably lost. The war is not over.