Strawberry Swing

The shadows on the streets thin with the autumn. I never realized I noticed this before, but all summer we drive through solid, black shadows and in autumn, it flickers and sparkles through the windshield. And later, in winter, when we need every blessed photon more and more, the trees sit kindly unobtrusive, bare. They have not a single thought about us; these are only incidental benefits; they made us as much as we made them.

I stood by the river under a tree with thin leaves--are there willows that don't weep? These looked like willow leaves, but I am a novice at naming trees. The sound of them falling through the branches, ticking and gently rasping against each other, the bark, and those yet to fall, took me back to her suddenly. The river, filthy with pride, took the leaves. A light wind started it again and again.

Fall begins today. I found out I can still feel that way.