Winds of Autumn

by Mewsette

The most special thing to me that comes in Autumn is the wind. It's a cooling wind, not wild and stormy like in spring, not hot and dusty like summer, not cold and bitter like winter wind. I've waited all summer for the door to open again, and that wonderful cool wind to come blowing in on me. Then it's Autumn, my favorite time of year. Now sometimes when I lie on my condo right next to the door, I get the best rewards of all year; warm (not hot) sunshine and cool (not cold) wind both at once. Of course, it isn't fresh mountain air coming in the door any more, it's city rerun air. It sure isn't fragrant and woodsy here, but here is what I've got, so I guess it'll do. It's still the same wind. I like to sniff the wind and see what's in it. I like the soft whooshing sounds it makes, too. I like to see the wind blow leaves around like dancing toys for kittens. And I can smell, hear and see all this better than humans can. Humans don't know how to soak up wind like I do. The wind is restless, like me. It blows and goes. I always want to know where it's been and where it's going. Did the same wind blow over my mountain and come to me here to say hello and see how I am? Did it blow over nearby Branson first and carry out snatches of soft country music for me to hear? Did it come from far, far away, to tease me about high aerie places I never saw? I'll stand up at the door and strain my neck forward to get the wind in my face. I'll close my eyes and smell and listen. But I'll never tell what the wind tells me.