I forgot what the leaves covered up
I can see the far hills again
And a tiny piece of the lake at the bottom of the valley

The lake is now grey and cold with a steady chop
It doesn’t beckon me as it did in August
when it hosted us in shorts and tanks on a hot summer day

But that doesn’t stop the intrepid few paddlers
who venture out year-round on that solitary waterscape
geared up for survival in that wet, cold, deep space with only face exposed

I miss the green leaves
but the barren limbs outside my window have a message of their own
They didn’t forget the autumn and are now prepared for the coming ice and bluster

My wind chimes sing a lively song
Deep mellow tones and lighter bells ringing
their chorus sings a subtle refrain, “prepare, prepare”

This is the song of leaves falling and wood stoves waking up
Their chewing embers gnawing on the season’s first chunks of wood
and sending it out the top with a familiar sweet-charred smell

I forgot what the leaves covered up
Longer shadows and shorter days
A new season, colder out there but warm in here