Country Fall.


I set on the shed as leaves turned to autumn pastels and miles of grass turned into golden expanses. I watched the horses get antsy in anticipation for chilly mornings and early feedings before the sun. We fastened the barn hinges and stacked bundles of hay in preparation for long johns and leather gloves. The coffee was now always set to brew at 4 am and once that alarm sounded, no matter how tired we we’re going to be, we had to make things happen. One night I sat out on the porch and drifted back to corn field bonfires and horseback riding into the warmth of dawn, but summer was gone now.  I now looked forward to candied apples and pumpkin spice everything, Octoberfest beers and plaid shirts. My little sister runs up to me as i walk along the forest’s edge and she asks me why Summer is hiding. I pick her up and point between the trees up at the sky and touch her nose: “Our sun will always be clear as day baby,” I say, as I whisk her back to the house right in time for supper. 


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