As autumn sways into view, each tree dons a robe of fire, a last dance before the winter, a spectacle of nature’s grace.

The air is filled with crisp laughter, touched by the scent of earth, where days grow shorter, while warmth slips away, inch by inch.

With every fallen leaf, a whisper of stories shared, awaiting the frost and ice, until spring sings again to the earth.

• Sara Teasdale