Autumn Rain

I remember such a happy childhood, grown up in the bliss of eternal autumn rain. I remember tiny droplets of stars falling from Heaven and the pollen of the Earth rising into the air. They met in the middle to form a scene of sweet, natural mist. It was as if, just for an hour, the world came alive and all forces erupted at once; and a wide-eyed child stood in the middle of it all. The warm Autumn rain on my 10 year old soul, the new life of flowers drifting gently about, spiralling in the wind. A scene of unspoilt freshness.

But I remember that beauty in the air masked by a feeling of unrelenting sadness; an empty feeling to contrast the world so full of life. The soul of an old man I knew once knew now spread itself throughout the atmosphere; the fields and the forest and the house he loved so dearly, his soul surrounding his young Granddaughter.

The long grass in which I stood swayed from side to side, in perfect time with the trees as he waved goodbye to the scene he had always known, and embarked on going somewhere new. The rain didn’t stop falling until early December.