Wednesday, 1st October

Dawn drifts in with a silver hue, the sky wears October’s gentle blue. Cicadas fade, the crickets call, mist lies low as shadows fall. The trees stand tall in whispered flame, each leaf preparing to change its name. A hush of wind, a cooling breath, summer retreats in quiet death. The rivers slow, their voices deep, the earth begins her autumn sleep. Fields grow pale beneath the sun, a softer chapter has begun. And in this calm, the world feels wide, midweek settles, the seasons slide. October opens, steady, slow, a timeless rhythm all things know.