Another installment of some short stories written by a friend for just some light reading.
What is a fall day like? Let me share with you.
I step outside my house onto the porch and breathe deeply. The smells of fall are all around me. The woodsy wet leaves in my front yard from the morning dew. The pine from the trees just beyond my driveway drifts lazily into my nostrils. I close my eyes as the wind brings the smells beyond my yard. Someone has a fire going in their fireplace. I can smell the crisp cold air from the lake just outside of town. It smells clean and fresh. I can hear the faint sound of a distant dog barking to greet the day. The wind through the trees makes a sound as if rushing water were tumbling over rocks. I rub my hands up and down my arms to get some more warmth. I throw my scarf around my neck and the faint smell of fabric softener drifts past.
I look out on the yard and the road beyond and all around me fall is here. Leaves stick to one another as they fall from their homes above. The deep orange and the dark red of the once soft and supple green leaves are a stark contrast. As a wind gust comes along the leaves take flight into the morning sky. They flutter back and forth until falling in a different spot among the others. While underneath the growing pile of leaves it is warm. Worms and other bugs retreat from the bitter cold wind and know that the leaves offer a warm blanket that envelopes them in soft comfort. The gray sky occasionally has a bright spot as if the sun were fighting to break through. The clouds hold their own and keep the light dim. I wonder where these clouds came from. Were they from a distant land where the leaves aren't so red and orange? Were they from the ocean that is beyond where I am? Have they seen the landscape of this great country and poured out their moisture upon the deserving crops in the mid west? Who knows. They are clouds that have seen me and are moving on to the next backdrop.
The wind is not so bad, but I am thankful for my warm long johns I am wearing. The soft sweater that my mom gave me last Christmas hugs my body and warms my soul. I look down to make sure my shoes are tightly laced and step off the porch. The crunch of the gravel and leaves under my feet as I walk are just louder than the wind blowing in my face. I turn my head down and begin to walk down the road. Life is good.
**For the ActiveRain police, these shorts are posted here with complete permission from their author!**