A Late Fall's Walk

The breeze was rustling fall's colorful droppings across the line of concrete as the couple walked the pathway toward a seemingly unknown destination.  The squirrels scampered through the piles of brittle, brown and yellow leaves, with black walnuts firmly in cheeks, toward their winter's storage space.  The bare limbs were burdened with migrating starlings as they settled down in the late afternoon sun to prepare for the cold night ahead and continuing flight tomorrow.  Their cackling and clicking muffling the crackling sound from the sea of oscillating leaves.

Her arm intertwined with his, heads bent slightly downward as in deep thought, the two walked silently in heavy coats, as their shoes slowly and methodically brushed their way through the colored debris lain out before them.

In the near distance, a smattering of cattle stood scattered within a recently harvested field, searching for forgotten ears of corn or stalks not yet bailed.  Their black and white silhouettes standing in stark contrast to the light brown land they occupied.

The roar of cars and trucks echoed in the distance, but as with the birds and squirrels the duo seemed oblivious to commotion bombarding them.  Somehow, they had become mentally detached from their surroundings, and yet they continued upon that manmade line.

Crows crossed the sky as old sol reached the far horizon, cawing and communicating as to their nights lodging.  Flying directly over the pair, they angled toward an old Oak tree by the town circle.  Perching on its outstretched arms, the cacophony of cawing would continue until the last rays of light peaked above the hills.

As the orb slowly sank below the land, the light of day was transformed into the dusk of evening, and with that followed the twilight of night's arrival.   And as the realm of life's essence lost its intensity, the two strolling figures, as silently as they had begun their stroll, faded into the darkness.

© Daryl A. Cleveland

October 18, 2008