There was a morning, recently, in which I was awakened by something that I haven't been awakened to in months. This thing, this dreaded thing, which comes but once a year, and gnaws unmercifully at one's bones, skin, and soul, has been absent from our glorious, summer filled days in which delight and the pure joy in the bounty of the nature that has been provided for us livens our hearts and overflows from our minds in a continuous display of the triumph of the seasons in producing so glorious and bountiful a time as those few short months afford. But this insidious evil, this conniving maleficence, this greedy dictator wakes me up with a start.
I was awakened by the cold.
This may seem but a token of the true evil which is to come, but that in itself is a manifestation of the depth of the treachery that this token represents. It breeds in our hearts a dissatisfaction with the warmth of the summer, under the guise of it being "too hot" or "too humid" or any other horrendous misappellation our fallen minds can contrive. This evil works by actually making us look forward to and enjoy its early signs. But friends! Comrads! Alas, it is all too clear that these early enjoyable moments, what our hearts mistake for a respite from the heat, is really just the temptress, beckoning us towards that fateful end: WINTER!!!
I tell you this so that you may beware the signs of "The Fall." She appears in cooler temperatures and a temporary resurgence of greenery. This is just a deception! Soon, you will not fail to notice, as I have, browning of crops, the colouring and eventual browning of the trees, and finally, a chill, and utterly hopeless winter.
Beware Fall and her companions, Grief and Despair; her road will lead you down the path to winter, her door is the door of destruction! Some call her Autumn, but do not be fooled, my friends; her ways lead to death.
4 comments:
At least her ways don't lead to insomnia, which is, given my religious beliefs, a great deal more troublesome than death. Also, I'm not sure it's the fault of poor Fall that Winter follows her around. That'd be like saying it's the fault of campers that bad weather follows them around. At any rate, always remember that one can always put more on, but there's only so much that can be taken off.
Why can't you come live in CA where the grass is BROWN and DEAD in the summer and I'll go back and live in the mid-west with my beloved clean, white-washed winter. =D
That was beautifully poetic.
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