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ANother story , Autumn
Autumn Park
Autumn is arguably the most beautiful time of year, I think it is the most beautiful and I am going to describe why.
Leaves have all fallen from the trees, unless of course they are evergreen. They leave a carpet of rich deep reds, gold’s, browns, greens, yellows and oranges.
Children are running around in scarves and hats, chasing squirrels that gather nuts and other food for the winter store. The children never have luck catching them. Squirrels are such fast little creatures.
Pine cones litter the floor, their natures little weather detectors. They can be open or closed and this determines if the weather will be good or bad.
Birds travel through the air in mass flocks, on their way to a nice hot foreign destination until Spring. And no one can blame them for wanting to escape. British winters are harsh and not nice like the autumn, with the sun high and bright in the sky.
Ducks still move across the lake and you can throw them bread. They gobble it up greedily as if they have not eaten for months and you remember them as little ducklings in the spring, ‘peep peeping’ at you for bread and you laugh. The grass is lightly dusted with a fine frost.
The clouds are wispy and fluffy like cotton candy and it gets you ready for the excitement of fireworks and fairs throughout autumn. At night you can stand watching those fire works exploding in star bursts of colour which rains down for a few seconds then simply disappears, as though it were never real. Sometimes it can be frightening and sound like there’s a war raging on outside. But there’s no need to worry, you can sit and eat hot jacket potatoes with steaming, rapidly melting butter. The wind blows softly to stir the leaves and you watch the stars in the night sky. As you breathe your warm breath in to the cool air, it condenses in to a little cloud spiralling up in to the sky and vanishing.
There are fewer animals about and it’s peaceful and serene as you watch the lake in the centre of a park, the moon glinting brightly on it as fire flies skim its surface.
But it not always beautiful…
Owls hoot eerily, foxes stalk about after the squirrels as they scamper off to their little homes to sleep. And it’s not nice to find them dead and bloody.
The weather’s also not always nice, the sky darkens and it begins to rain, fat drops fall icily from the sky, soaking you and chilling you to the very core. Thunder rumbles with a starling loudness and lighting flashes blindingly awakening with-in you an old primal fear, inherited from way back in the Stone Age. You start running across the park, through puddles and all. Mud splashes up your legs making your clothing filthy. You might even loose your footing and skid head long in to someone else.
Finally , though, you gets to the park gates and walk out hopping on a bus when it finally comes, and you can go home dry off, change and snuggle up all cosy with a warming bowl of soup. AND remember the beautiful leaves with their intricate patterns. The squirrels as they are skittering across the grass then scampering up trees. Ducks, quacking as they look for food. Kids laughing and so much more…..
And think autumn really is beautiful
