Petals fall. Seeds drop. Leaves loosen.

New growth is still some way off.
A forgotten celebration of life in the distance, springing forth like laughter from the diaphragm. Until then, winds rise.

Discomfort. Aching muscles and tired eyes dried by the breeze. Columns of light cascade through the window, occasionally, when the sun manages to poke through.

A fireplace stoked while music plays. Folks well fed and drinks flowing free. There is still cheer in the air where there is water and warmth, where the memory of new lives is fresh.

A roof over our head, we clothe ourselves in autumn colours, waiting for the next thing to break and be fixed. Creature comforts from little routines keep us going. And listening.