Looking out her window, the young woman could see many things which made up a scene that she had come to know well. She knew every tree, every hill from this view that had become familiar over the past five years, and she now felt at home in the midst of a setting which had at one time been unknown to her. The leaves sailing gently down to the wet bark dust reminded her of autumns in her past, and the picturesque place that she was once a part of. Alone with her thoughts, soon she was there again, in the field she had occupied often as a child, taking in her surroundings of years before.
She rested atop a steep wave, floating above an expansive sea of grass which stretched out long and wide before her eyes and below her person. Down the slope in front of her and beyond the knoll where she sat, lay countless short pieces of green, a natural carpet that rolled on for acres before reaching its end as the edge of the field ran under rows of vertical wooden planks on the other side, the numerous carpet fibers seemingly tucked snugly beneath the fence posts. A soft wind bent down and brushed the ground, pushing the tops of the small springy strings up and down, back and forth, ever so slightly that they became a mass of flickering candle flames. As the girl leaned back, placing her palms behind her for support, a stiff green spear stood out proudly from among the soft, docile blades which made up the majority of the vast field, and jabbed the edge of her thumb forcefully, all but puncturing her skin.
She returned her hands to her lap, the dark blue denim beneath them feeling warm against her cold fingers. A sudden gale picked up and glided over this ocean like a sea breeze, but instead of harshly hitting her nose and cheeks and smelling of salt water, the wind’s icy fingertips gently touched the girl’s face with the crisp scents of autumn trees, fog and nigh-frozen ground, and the savory smells of lingering chimney smoke and various plants so sweet they could almost be tasted. Just before departing, what remained of the breeze swept past, and with its tail tapped each of the dry, brown leaves on the tall, robust oak tree standing behind her, sending a few soundlessly to the hard dirt below and rattling through those still attached to limbs.
Directing her sight toward the ground from where the tree sprang up and was rooted, she noticed how the oak’s numerous legs pierced the dirt and became trapped in the tightly packed earth, leaving only a few knees visible above the surface. Were it not for its feet being buried under countless inches of heavy soil, the mighty oak may have shaken off the mosses and dirt which plagued it and held it captive, and ran free, but as it was the tree was completely powerless to move the smallest distance, and resigned itself to the wills of nature, standing as a solid statue against any rain storms or forces of wind that may come against it. She reached out to press her hand against its trunk, and found the bark to be as rough and hard as it appeared. Her eyes rolled up and up, following the tree trunk higher and higher until she had to tilt her head back to take in the uppermost portion. The top was sparsely decorated with the odd leaf here and there, as well as with dots of moss, some of which were the dark green hue of pine trees, the rest a peculiar shade of grayish aquamarine, much subtler than the vibrant colors which brightened the patches of sky peeking ‘round the edges of leaves and limbs above her.
Brilliant shades of pink and purple ran together like a watercolor painting in the western sky, set off by the shining wide arch of bright golden yellow that occupied the lowest portion of the horizon and touched the darker strips of color on its upper border, the lower part alluding to the warm ball of light from where it originated, now out of sight below the point where the sky met the mountains. Delightful colors penetrated the cotton-like clouds near them, their light permeating through the fluffy balls of water vapor and saturating each with a distinct hue. Gradually the sky became dimmer and the colors combined to create a dark, mysterious purple-gray dusk just above the distant mountain range. As the girl saw that daylight would soon disappear altogether to make way for twinkling illuminated dots to appear overhead, numerous as the blades of grass and sprinkled throughout the wide dome of sky, she realized that she, too, must vacate the outdoor world, and she left the cold, empty field, unaware that her future visits to this place were to be limited in number.
Now she awoke at once from her nostalgic daydream, wondering at this flood of precise memories. It had been so long ago since she had actually beheld this scene, yet it came back to her mind instantly when thought upon. Would she ever have the opportunity of revisiting that sacred place of her youth? Only time would tell. For now she would step outside and become a part of this newer, yet extravagantly beautiful setting that she currently inhabited, and ponder the similarities and differences between this fall and autumns of old.
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