If September is the dawn of the Harvest season, October is the day. The full swing, the full bloom, the full circle of the Harvest season. The days are shortening in the mountains. Not by the time of the clocks, but the by time the sun sits in the sky. The fiery sphere retires early at this time of year. The mountains feel a chill once it retires, and even as it takes its seat the following the day. As hints of color creep into the leaves, an Autumn wind carries the first casualties to their final resting place. Soon, the mountains will experience a litter of nature, dead leaves scattered about, leaving behind gnarled and empty branches. Such is the seasonal cycle, and a reminder that at any moment, Winter may attempt an early coup to lay claim to the seasonal throne. The mountains shoulder the change from Summer’s heat to Autumn’s delicate balance of warm to cool to cold, and even back again, sometimes in the same day. The Harvest season is in full force. A piper for the dying before the dead of Winter. Save for the mountains, who exist as they have for eons.
Copyright © Drew Martin 2021