Winter is Falling

by Andrew

When you feel the heat falling out of the sky, it’s because winter is falling. The only color we don’t lose is the sky, the pinnacle of the seasons and home only to the sun and stars. Fall feels different from all else. As it gets closer to the ground, gaining speed all the while, we see the trees camouflage themselves. Not even the trees can hold their composure against the tumbling winter. Now I can’t smell the ripe vegetation; premature winter kills our trees’ life line as the leaves turn over in color. Fall looks different from all else. There are no fighting birds; they’ve been driven out by the Canadians again. The mornings have no chirps or whistles. The distinctive call of birds only shows the geese chanting through the trees. It appears they are overhead but you can’t catch a glimpse through the light in the leaves. They suddenly burst through the tree cover and into a golden field glinting from the dew. Fall sounds different from all else. The mornings match the leaves, crisp and yellow. As you breathe in the fall, pure, cool air refreshes my senses, keeps me alert and my lungs fresh. I hear slight crunches under my feet. The squirrels reverberate their warnings in harsh chirps as I penetrate deeper into their land. They’re scared I will eat their food and leave them to starve. Fall acts different from all else, and the land knows it.