Posted in Nature, Stories

Gusts of autumn

Trees, attacked by wind clippers, have to let go of their green fur. Tired leaves flutter down and adorn the ground with a carpet of colors. Squirrels – busy with certified free-range acorns – stare in the distance with their black bead eyes, like they want to inculcate the whereabouts of winter supplies in their tiny red heads. Wood gnomes stand in line at the Garden Center, where a variety of mushrooms is on sale.

Soon the wind whirls around in search of chinks and holes, bumping into heated houses. Rain adorns windows with glistening drops, revealing a warm family life. Summer dresses and short skirts battle winter coats and woolly scarves, and eventually have to yield to thick leggings and fur coated boots. How ‘horrible’, hibernating in a cozy dry closet, while the vanquishers defy wind gusts and seeping rain.

Still the dehydrated indoor air germinates an anxiety for the rugged outdoors: it’s better to have the dark blush of a kingfisher than the white cheeks of a sparrow.

During a walk in the woods, the muse whispers softly:

Tender threads
delicate but tenacious
woven into a pattern
of intricate symmetry

Filmy lace
catches drops of dew
and reflects sun light
deep into your heart


With pursed lips, a fat spider awaits unsuspecting passersby in the middle of her sparse structure, so she can gaze deep into their eyes. Only her elects are surprised by a kiss on the lips. Usually this caress results in a bloodcurdling scream from the hiking party, followed by spitting out web remnants. Indignant the eight-legged madame turns around and grabs her tool box. Always the same with those two-leggers!


Slightly upset by this intimate encounter with the offspring of Mother Nature, the fur-coated legs return home, following the lure of a steaming cup of chocolate milk, a glass of herbal tea (the coffee pot only plays a minor roll in this house), hearty pea soup. Mulled or red wine, a sip of whisky. Or a hot bath.

Then a new day is born. Many a biorhythm has difficulties with the dark cold salute that blows in through the open window. King Frost waves his chilly scepter and covers the cars in hoarfrost. Isn’t that great: this monarch provides free morning exercises! The parking lot’s barrier suffers from RSI but bravely toils onwards: the university opens her arms and doors wide in a warm embrace, even in autumn…

Author:

Caretaker of lads and cats. No lady, but all woman. RPGamer. Avid reader. Writing my first book, squeezing in time during busy days. And nights if needed. Because I'd love to introduce you to the wonderful people who are living in my mind.

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