Fall is Here

Some may call it dreary, but I say it's beautiful.  Some may describe it as disconcerting, but I feel peaceful.  Turning my face towards the heavens, I see that the clouds aren't moving.  The sky is nothing but a big mass of grey clouds, forming a thick blanket through which the sun cannot peek.  The air is on the verge of being frigid, but I find it exhilarating.  A thin, autumn breeze pierces its way through the trees, rattling the skeletons of leaves.  It sounds as if a Native American rain stick is being repeatedly tipped on end.  Leaves crunch and crackle as I run into the woods, going nowhere in particular.  The smell of campfires lingers in the air.  It appears as if Mother Nature has abandoned her children, letting them succumb to the icy death of winter.  Trees are barren, leaves dead, and once green grass is now brown and brittle.  All signs of new life have ceased to exist, but then again, what does one expect in fall?