It’s about fall.
———————————————————————-
As I sit and gaze out the window on a fall evening in late October, my eyes scan up and down the rows of suburban backyards enclosed by red or brown or chain-link fences. The yards boast a menagerie of fallen leaves, wilting gardens, abandoned fire pits and play things from the summer past that have yet to be returned to their rightful place in the garage or basement. The trees; some bare, others ablaze red, orange, and gold in their autumnal glory are flaunting their ravishing yet tenuous beauty as they shimmy and shake whichever way the crisp autumn wind wishes to pull them. The grass, as if it clings to the fleeting memories of a summer long gone, retains the green hues that were once synonymous with cook-outs and baseball games and firework displays.
The days are shorter now as the moon grows earlier in awakening from his daily slumber. The temperature begins to drop; the first frost of the year is forthcoming. The leaves too descend. They fall from the trees far overhead and crack and crunch on the sidewalk as the children make their way home from school. Autumn is upon us.
There is a certain feeling in the air; but it is one that cannot be described by a single word or phrase. Our hearts yearn for the dog days of summer where we could sit by the pool and relax with a drink in our hand and not a care in the word. We resent the thought of shivering while enduring another cold winter. But there is a certain restlessness in our bones; an unheeded call to action leaves us lying awake in bed at night pondering what could have been, what should have been.
The lucid dreams burn in our minds as we rest. The desire to hold beauty unseen leaves us foaming at the mouth and howling at the orange-tinted harvest moon above. Our desires belie the admonitions of those more superior, more mature. We would search, but don’t know where to begin. We would scream, but lack the strength to call out. We would give it all up, but remain so stubborn.
So it is with no avail that we return home, unsuccessful in acquiring that which we longed for. We promise ourselves that we will search again tomorrow when we are better suited to take on the world. And it is at this time that my eyes are once again drawn down the rows of suburban backyards. A feeling of calm enters my soul. And it is in this sense that autumn proves to be the balance of life, an equinox in the truest sense of the word.
———————————————————
It’s pretty long. So what do you think of it? How can i improve?