Melancholy Autumn

I am not sure why it is that Autumn brings on the melancholy. I love the crispness of the air, the bite of the wind, the leaves as they turn colors (green, yellow, fall off tree... almost that fast in the High Desert of California!). I also love how our impossibly clear blue sky suddenly acquires friends: all kinds of clouds visit along the outskirts of the vast Antelope Valley and sit at the base of the mountains as if waiting to be invited in.

The wind, capricious as she is, will sometimes do the honors and drag the clouds across the sky, stretching and puffing them, depending on her mood. And other times she will leave them sit there like overdressed bespeckled girls at a party clutching paper cups of weak fruit punch who wait to be asked to dance and know they never will... until she tires of their presence and whisks them back over the mountains so they never get to play in our huge empty skies.

My trees, hardy and full, will take a few months to be complete free of foilage. Last year they didn't transform completely until a surprising and magical snowfall in mid December. Then... FOOM... a layer of green leaves in perfect circles on top of the snow under each tree!

And yet, it saddens me to think of my wonderful Mulberries bare and shivering, bereft of their lush clothes and the myriad birds that make their branches sing.

Autumn also portends the coming of winter with its attendant freeze and cocooning and planning for the all the holidays that seem to be squeezed together into about two weeks beginning with Halloween and racing to New Years.

So for now, I will go outside and enjoy the taste of the breeze and catch the first faintest whisp of fireplace smoke, cradling a cup of hot chocolat... nah, wine, and watch the stars come out.

Feeling melancholy at this time of year just feels...right somehow, as if it is the natural order of things. Slowing down and taking stock and shoring up for the coming winter.

Me, I will still have my evening glass of wine and go outside to say goodnight to the sky... but the goodnights may become a bit rushed as the mercury drops!

Just Musing,
Susan


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