Reflections on Autumn

Autumn

The mornings bite;
Cold teeth on the skin.
The sun hanging in an insipid sky.
Leaves float in the breeze, a myriad of colour.

The watery sunshine picks out a billion spider's webs hanging from the trees;
Their traps are flecked with dew, a collection of tiny dream catchers holding on to summer memories.
The half-light of dusk draws closer each day; cars lit up like beacons, tiny fireflies of the road.

Berries abound.
Conkers fall.
Birds are quietly busy, revelling in the short-term bounty.

The park seems different at home-time; darker, emptier, more ominous.
Autumn never ceases to surprise; every year it catches my breath.
I gasp as daylight is stolen from me, as the cold chills my bones, as my mood darkens.

Winter is coming.
I await the ice.