The Autumn Ball
I’ve been telling Asher a little story about the autumn here and there, when the moment is right and we’re in the mood to imagine.
When the weather becomes cool and mornings reveal frosty lawns or low-lying gray fog,
the trees prepare for the Autumn Ball by changing into their fanciest party dresses.
They put on gowns of glowing golds, brilliant scarlet, warm russets, and rich browns. They must get very fancy, for it will be their last party for a good long while.
They put on fine jackets of velvet and place gold crowns on their heads.
They shine up their boots and rouge their cheeks.
And together they whirl and swirl, dancing through the night under the stars, dancing while they greet the morning, dancing long into the midday sunshine, dancing even when it’s time for the little children to lay down their heads in the evening.
The trees sway to the music of the good earth, turning turning, shining and spinning in their fancy clothes and until at last they tire.
Soon they must disrobe and go to sleep through the long, cold winter. They must slumber and rest after such a glorious Autumn, and will spend the dark winter dreaming of the enchanting party they attended in November, when the winds blew through their beautiful ruffles and silken leaves as they danced the month away.
They will sleep until it’s time to wake and don new green clothes in Spring.
