It is wet and rainy tonight. The wind has been cutting into my sweatshirt as I walked a bit in the dark. The distant towns create a glow on a navy blue horizon and hint at civility. The promise of fall is stronger than it has been. It is a reality that goes beyond the warmth of harvest colors like brown, yellow, red and orange.
Tonight there is a willfulness in the air. A secret anger in the weather as if Fall is spiteful at being left so late in the year. It challenges the frailty of men and laughs in the wind as I hunch shoulders and cover my head with my hood. Tonight fall is a bully, pushing its way into time and my life. It dares me to try to keep warm and mocks my efforts. It sits and taunts, makes fun and laughs at my thoughts and what I have to say.
It belittles me and makes me feel small and worthless. It is a Fall that seeks to control, to drive me away, to drive me into a warm place.
When I am inside it will laugh and race up the hills and familiar haunts it has known so well from countless Falls loosed on the hills of home. Fall will swirl wet and dead leaves round like whirlpools of worthlessness. It will claim victory for the visiting team and crow in the moonlight a victory that it has claimed year after year, season after season.
Too soon it will be hushed like a cur dog, however. Too soon it will be crushed by the real giant - Winter. Winter will step into the valleys and claim present and place from meager Fall. It will tell Fall it is a mere transition, just a passing of time from Summer in all the green glory to Winter with pristine snowy whites and crisp frozen venues.
Fall dances in the streets tonight, but not for long, not for long.
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