The robins and ‘jays perched upon the elm, chirping as the cool, graceful breezes move the tree’s swaying leaves around in the air ever so slightly. The sun halfway down the treetops, the clouds a misty grey, swirling around with the sky like cotton candy.
And the feeling is wonderful, and you are thankful.
And you know that you are in safety.
And the final, few sighs of chickadees and sparrows when they realize that summer is over, it is autumn. The season of falling leaves, a mess of warm colours, the trees anticipating the moment when snow will arrive.
And you sip on your steamy hot cocoa, your fingertips just beginning to warm up in the dimming moonlight. A soft, woven blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders with a warm, snow-white furball purring contently on your lap, with the sound of a crackling fire and soft, simmering flames burning through the firewood. The windows sparkling from yesterday’s frozen rain, and the barren, desolate trees fighting against the crisp snow and harsh winds. You take another sip, the hot cocoa losing its warmth as it eventually runs out.
And, in the time of rainy days with earthly smells and the first chickadees filling the forests with song, your mug handle being replaced with an umbrella.
The sun isn’t afraid to show itself anymore, yet occasionally it hides behind the comfort of clouds.
The rain drizzling down the familiar newly blossomed trees, gladly taking in the rainwater and flowers perking up in the rain whilst you walk home.
My home is a home for all seasons.