It is in the air
The scent of nostalgia and melancholy
It whisks you to a land of memories
On a swift, chilled breeze
It is comfort and adventure wrapped up in a sweater, singing of the beginning of the end of a year weathered by.
The wind, it rocks us and chills us,
And reminds us that newness is coming
After everything dies
With every deep breath comes a moment
To remember a time of mourning for the losses of the year,
A time of comfort and joy for every gain,
A time of hope for what lies ahead
The sun stops burning us
And instead warms us to the inside
As our days shift to marshmallows
And talks by the fire
It is the death and yet the promise of newness
We shed our old skins and prepare for the next; a cacophony of leaves becomes our cocoon.
How nice is autumn,
The friend who meets us to guide us
To the other side
Nov 15, 2025
Nov 15, 2025 at 12:28 PM UTC
It is in the air
The scent of nostalgia and melancholy
It whisks you to a land of memories
On a swift, chilled breeze
It is comfort and adventure wrapped up in a sweater, singing of the beginning of the end of a year weathered by.
The wind, it rocks us and chills us,
And reminds us that newness is coming
After everything dies
With every deep breath comes a moment
To remember a time of mourning for the losses of the year,
A time of comfort and joy for every gain,
A time of hope for what lies ahead
The sun stops burning us
And instead warms us to the inside
As our days shift to marshmallows
And talks by the fire
It is the death and yet the promise of newness
We shed our old skins and prepare for the next; a cacophony of leaves becomes our cocoon.
How nice is autumn,
The friend who meets us to guide us
To the other side