Adieu

Adieu



             The dawn of the Summer was already leaving. Earlier nights giving way to late mornings. This morning was reluctant as ever. The green leaves finally letting go of their hues to paler versions. The trees sighing from the idea of a daunting task looming ahead: shed the leaves, as ruthlessly as before. The chirup in their wood was fading into a silent melancholy; for the departure of the cricket was no small affair. The hydrangeas and the germaniums felt placid from discouragement; another period of grey dormancy was too harsh to bear. The wind heaved in obedience, the system had to be maintained. It had helped spread some happiness for Spring, it was time to take it back again. It passed from shrub to shrub, from hedge to hedge, shaking off disheartened flowers deprived of warmth, deprived of the sun. The scene spoke of farewell, a graceful bowing out and preparing for the new season. They spoke of vibrant colors they had dispersed and the melody of happiness they created. They reminded of the missing sunshine, hiding behind doubtful clouds. They reminiced the laughter and the delightful screams of children echoing their joy. This could not be it, they whispered.



         With the roads barren and the front yards bare, the withering Summer had one last encore to make. It borrowed the colors of Fall; auburn, crimson, amber and gold, and draped them all over like a uniform. The obedient trees, shrubs and hedges orchesterated together with a bolder sunshine for an Autumn Equinox with enough warmth to fill the streets again. When they heard the music of merriment and the bonfires of ecstasy, they left the stage one by one, with silent wind, colder by the minute, oblivious to the merry makers. This is how it is done, they all sighed in accomplishment. This is how we bid adieu.

Until tomorrow, if it ever comes.