The Mild Melancholy of Autumn

If fall were a person, she’d be an introverted poet and artist. She steps out of summer shyly, unsure if the world is ready for her. As she paints the leaves red and strips down the trees, and as the carved jack o’ lantern sitting out on the neighbor’s front porch grows mold and curls in on itself, she reminds us there is death, but for those who know, there is more than that.