Even the rain bows for Autumn

The rain falls so slowly that if you didn’t move you might not feel it brush past your skin. The wind betrays its position, joining the cool drops to your warm flesh as they await impact on the ground. Loyal soldiers, faithful servants of the sky. They deploy from the clouds, a place humans would not wish to part from, to martyr themselves upon the Earth. They hang here tonight, slowing their descent to a menial pace. They feel it too, the magic in the air. The very first inklings of Autumn on this September 21st.

The equinox is hot on our heels as the hour creeps to 10 PM. Soon the world will be blanketed in its brisk embrace. We almost didn’t know that summer had left because we quarantined as it packed without fanfare. We entered our isolation as the winter clung with bitter nails to its hold over the world. We hardly noticed that warm rains brought buds. The wind wound through our streets looking for cheeks to caresse and found only closed doors.

And so tonight as the rain hangs in the air with pause, its breath baited for the arrival of Autumn, I try to stay still here in this moment. I let the wind nip at my skin in playful antagonization. I smooth the droplets of dew into my hair and I let it create a curtain to hang around me. I was a poor host to Spring, didn’t even invite Summer inside. So I await Fall with the porch light on. 

I may not have paid any mind to your brethren but I feel you coming up behind me tonight. I sense the anticipation in the air as even the precipitation halts to bow for your arrival. I know you’re out there, somewhere in the darkness, preparing to take reign over the world. And I will submit to all that you bring, in hopeful contemplation of what we will sow together.

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