The flowers have been replaced by leaves. Red and gold colors exist where the green used to grow and every hill looks like a living poem. At first I was angry because I did not want to say goodbye to the warmth that summer brings. I wanted to rest in a year long hammock, where petunias burst into bloom and I never have to feel a shiver, but life is a constant lesson just dressed in different seasons.
If not for the death of fruit trees and the arrival of chilly autumn mornings, I would never know the beauty of chopped wood in a fireplace or hot cocoa on my tongue. I know there will be days where I curse the frost on my thumbs and dread leaving a warm bath, but at least autumn is beautiful to look at.
There is something about the cold air that makes me want to play my banjo. I always enjoy pulling the strings but warm air makes them sticky and I am much lazier underneath the sun. With the arrival of autumn comes the desire for me to be more creative and productive. I want to devote the colder months to discovering all of the sounds my banjo can make. Maybe then, I will emerge like a bear in the spring, with two hands that play banjo the way I've heard it in my dreams.