Autumn up north is upon us again, with sharp contrasts and fallen leaves, squirrels and chipmunks scurry about, preparing for the winter snow.
Days of polished azure skies, backdrop to sugar maples on fire in the colors of change: burnt oranges, crimson reds, and golds.
Leaves twist and twirl in the air on their way to their winter rest, crunching and scratching on sidewalks before me.
The shrill caw, caw, caws of blue jays, cut through the thin morning air, heralding the oncoming cold, with sharp gusts that sting the cheeks.
The scents of autumn so familiar, musty and crisp, inviting and blustery, envelop me in memories of years past, like a familiar friend calling me out to play.