Autumn Shivering In On The Wings of Canadian Geese

The Canadian geese arrived today on their annual trek south, and autumn came shivering in on their black-tipped wings. Technically, autumn has been here for weeks, but the summer sun has been reluctant to release her grip on Central Texas, which is fine by me.

Though I am a child of October, autumn, for me, is a yawning, cavernous time of subterranean sighs, the small creakings and dyings of summer, the lingering shadows of old sorrows burrowing in for a long winter.

Watching the geese skim across the darkening water, I work at finding the beauty of the season, the dusty golds and burnt oranges, but in my heart I know that winter lurks beyond the leaves and will be here soon, pressing its low, gray sky into the earth.

Over the past few years, I have learned to come to terms with autumn, but I am not sure winter will ever be welcome to me. And so I will pull blankets from storage and stockpile hot chocolate and settle in, knowing that spring will come.