All The Months In Fall [new] -

And when the first snow whispered across the fields, the three months clasped hands and vanished—September back into waiting spring, October into the heart of memory, November into the cold hush of December’s doorstep.

Then came November, walking slowly, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug. She wore gray and brown, the colors of bare branches and sleeping earth. Her eyes were quiet, and she carried a single, withered leaf in her palm. “I bring the end,” she whispered. “The last apple on the bough, the foggy mornings, the feast where we gather close. I bring the remembrance of all that has passed, and the first hard frost that tells the seeds: rest now.” all the months in fall

All the months of fall—September, October, and November—gathered one last time before winter’s chill swept the land. They met at the edge of the old maple forest, where the leaves had already begun their slow, fiery transformation. And when the first snow whispered across the

“They always blame me for the sadness,” November murmured. Her eyes were quiet, and she carried a

October draped an arm around her. “Without your stillness, no one would notice my fire.”