autumn-dance

Eman Abdo,

“Winter is and etching, spring a water color, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all”  – Stanley Horowitz

I’m standing in a park with autumn’s vivid colors neighboring me. The diminishing green, the developing yellow and present orange. With every pace I take, feeling the crunch of a breaking leaf under my bare feet. The sound of the singing wind, that passes by every once in a while; forming goose bumps on my delicate skin. Sitting under the naked tree, smiling in contentment, thinking, but only pure bliss consuming me. What I just termed isn’t just a background portrayal, more over a description of what I feel.

As John Burroughs once said “How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days.” I watch the leaves fall from their home and joining the wind on a journey around me. I take it as a symbol of life. These autumn leaves, their shade changes over time, growing old and tired; just as I change, going through different stages of life. I look at every individual around me pondering if they see what I see, or feel what I feel. This domain around us has many striking seasons, but only one do I appreciate as my companion.

Autumn reminds me of a sunset; so warm and comforting making wish that my acquaintances were as the likes of this season. How bizarre it is that a simple yet complicated season such as autumn or fall, as some may call it, can have so much significance behind it. I close my eyes needing to feel my surroundings. From the smell of the freshly cut grass, to the echoes of people enjoying their time. What more could one want in his life? I at a guess, say nothing; for autumn is what we all need but not usually want.

“Autumn, the year’s last, loveliest smile.”  As William Cullen Bryant formerly said.