The sun was warm and the sky a hazy cornflower blue. She listened to the sounds of mid-morning as she strolled down the gravel path. Mockingbirds and doves called out to one another and wind soughed softly through branches of Oak and Cottonwood.

Each step she took crunched dried leaves and pebbles underfoot. She soon heard another set of footsteps nearing from behind. She looked over her shoulder just as a young person, possibly a teen, moved up to walk beside her.

Willowy and lithe, dressed in a flannel top and denim pants, the boy cast her a smile. ?Mind if I join you??

He looked so familiar to her. Possibly a neighbor's son. Here in the country, with folks scattered throughout the hills, the children grew up so fast that keeping up with them was near impossible. ?Don't mind at all. It's nice to have company on such a gorgeous day. Where are you headed??

?Over the hill, and them some,? said with a smile, and a nod to the path ahead of them. ?Visiting family . . .? then another smile shot in her direction. ? . . . communing with the Creator.?

They walked on as a cool zephyr brought just the faintest scent of winter from the high, white-capped mountains to the east. Her companion took a deep breath. 'the most colorful time of the year, don't you think??

She looked out over the grass on the hillside ? a beautiful green with patches of frost-touched tan. Caught in a tangle of branches, a shaft of morning sunlight shattered off shiny leaves of red, ochre, amber, and green. ?Yes, a beautiful way to send another year on its way.?

?Ah! A wonderful way to show the culmination of spring and summer. Were it not for the new growth after winter. Or the long, bright hot days of summer ? this glorious vision that visits the Earth yearly would never happen.? A breeze ruffled the russet colored hair, whisking part of the sentence away with the shadows as billowy clouds flitted out of sight, over the crest of the hill. ? . . . and there would surely be no need for winter.?

She turned to her companion, intending to have him repeat his last statement.

?Well, I must be on my way.?

She stopped mid-step, nearly tripping over her words. She stretched her hand out. 'thank you for your company . . .?

?Autumn.?

?You are a girl? I thought . . .?

Looking up into the blue, blue firmament, ?I am the season,? was the reply.

She stepped closer as sunlight caught in irises of dark amber, then splintered outward in all the many hues of autumn. With a blink the faceted light was extinguished, and her companion was gone.

Swift and intense, autumn bursts forth, resplendent in beauty to the eye and the spirit. A cornucopia of the best from all Earth's seasons ? and only possible because spring and summer have gone before. And, necessary, if winter is to prepare the Earth for the renewal ahead.

May your walk with nature be as companionable. May your stride through life be as full as the seasons needed to bring color and life to the fruition and magnificence of your earthly existence. For it shall all prepare you for the renewal ahead.

Copyright 2005 by Kathy Pippig Harris

Kathy lives in Central California's San Joaquin Valley with her husband and furry family. She is a weekly columnist for the publication "Frank Talk" and a published author of five novels. She states, "Were it not for her need, desire, and love of writing -- she would surely go mad!"