Autumn

Autumn dances quietly.

No frenzied pace, no need for blaring music, nor filling the sky with bursts of showy noise.

It is the rhythm of slowing, of fires and rich coffee, of reading and connecting when living was simpler.

Curl under soft blankets. Reach for a treasured book. Soft music or silence wraps us inward.

Fill a card for your friend with sweet memories, buy a pretty stamp, send it knowing we all love real mail.

There is magic in putting pen on paper, to be held against one’s heart. A gift of something to savor and keep.

The fairies paint more trees each night, as they dance with her, and we recall there is beauty letting go,

after summer’s dry and fiery days slowing down comes pleasingly.

There are more important things than speed.

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