Birds still chirped in the leafy branches above. Yet it was there—the slight change in breeze, the few leaves in the tops of the trees that had begun to tip with scarlet, gold, and burnt orange. Yes, it was there—the sense that summer was waning, that autumn was gently stretching forth her lovely, bejeweled hand to clasp the world in the wonder and beauty of harvesttime. Naturally, Autumn Lake always imagined autumn as a woman. It was her season, after all—the season she was named for—her mother’s most beloved time of year. So of course she imagined autumn itself was a personage—a woman of such great gentleness and beauty that all the world waited for her to appear, gasping at her loveliness when she did. Yes, the season of harvest and respite was a woman in Miss Autumn Lake’s bountiful imagination—auburn-haired, with ribbons of pumpkin orange and sage green woven through. Her eyes were the color of ripe green apples and her lips such a perfect bittersweet that all men who looked at her desired to kiss her.
What do You think about The Haunting Of Autumn Lake?
