Autumn Cycle

Fall is in the air. It is nearly October. The corn in this vast prairie, where I live, is ripening and rustling in the fields, the beans are turning from green to yellow to brown and the trees are beginning to show autumn’s fiery paintbrush in yellow, orange and red.

The early morning air is crisp and clear, the days are warm and the nights return to their coolness when the sun retreats on the western horizon.

After I am ready for work and I leave the house, I spend the next glorious half hour in the dim of the early morning. I don a sweatshirt, jacket, gloves and my helmet and hop on my scooter. My ride to work is a calm and head clearing start to my day. There is minimal traffic. The bracing coolness on my exposed skin chases any sleep from my body. I am awake. I am alive.

I arrive at work and step into the cacophony of conveyors and fork trucks. I stop for a moment and drink in the warmth of the building and the liquid of my coffee. I anticipate the outcome of the day and what I need to do to make sure that the work gets done on time. I listen to people complain about their co-workers. I watch as employees work hard and do their best and am honored that they give me their all. I commend them. We get the job done, as a team. It is satisfying and the day is over.

I step outside. I breathe in the warmth that has replaced the cool of the morning. I pack up my jacket and sweatshirt and hop on my scooter for the second time. The air is balmy and warm and there is no need for gloves. I ride towards home. There is more traffic than this morning. I take the scenic route home, along the cemetery, by the woods. I drive from sunshine to shadow and the temperature of the shade hits my face and arms and cools me. It reminds me that the winter months are coming.

I arrive at home and am greeted by my dog. We play catch in the yard or head to go chase rabbits or squirrels in the woods. Worn out, we head back home. We eat our supper. We lay on the couch. We ready for bed.

Night has fallen and my energy wanes. It’s time for bed. I sleep the sleep of infants, deep, unencumbered and wake the next morning to start the cycle again.