The door creaks and closes behind me.  I step outside and the frigid air almost takes my breath away.  I wrap my jacket tighter and pull up the zipper.  I walk down the cement steps to the frost covered grass through the rough bare bushes, the sticks clawing at my legs.  Turning the corner, I notice a small rabbit camouflaged in the woods.  It’s busy eating what’s left of the brown grass, its nose twitching constantly.  It stops me and bounds noiselessly away.

 

    I continue to the woods, and signs of autumn are all around.  The leaves have begun to fall, and now are the most vibrant warm reds, oranges and browns.  Soon these trees will be bare and filled with disappointment, so I cherished this colorful array.  I take a step and hear the satisfying crunch of dried leaves beneath my feet.

 

    The sun has not yet begun to set, but the autumn light threatens to leave.  As I step into the woods, the smells of moist pine fill my nostrils.  I can hear the woods come to life with the sounds of squirrels chattering and birds singing.  As I continue, I am enclosed in an undiscovered world of trees, moss and plants.  The wind picks up, a breeze so cold that I shudder.  But it’s not time to go inside, not yet.  As it grows darker, all goes quiet, and I can picture the small animals taking their places to rest.  Nature is hushed, put on hold until morning.

 

    I suddenly realize that I am alone, and a feeling of uneasiness sets in.  The friendly chatter of animals no longer surrounds me, and the trees have taken on different shapes, with shadows disfiguring them.  The branches that were once welcoming and beautiful are now threatening and sinister.  I begin the long walk home, and am met with the warm glow of my porch light.  My breath is now visible against the cold of the night.  I walk up the steps and feel comforted and safe.

 

    Autumn is here.

 

    Xinyi Translation Studio