rustle of the autumn's dress

the fall.
i can feel it in the air.
this smell of rotten leaves, smell of wet, freshly-dug ground
this warm tired sun, that still tries to give the earth last rays before going away and becoming white in winter

in summer sun is bright yellow and broiling
in winter it is cold and white
in autumn it is orange and warm. a big caramel apple.

in early fall the air is very clear
you can see far away in the distance and fill your lungs to the top

the early fall is quiet
quiet like singing of the birds somewhere but not near
quiet like rustling of the leaves under your feet
quiet like rain on the river

the early fall is warm, clear and quiet

but it has an unspeakable and inimitatable touch of melancholy and nostalgia

the early fall has rare beauty
but everything in it is aware of forthcoming death
and everything in it does not have a thought of resisting
because everything in it knows the way this world goes round
everything in it knows the past, the present and the future
everything in it is a part of one
because all is one