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Arin Burrell

Autumn Breeze

By Arin Burrell


I have come to enjoy watching the sun set earlier and earlier each day as I sit on top of my house.


It is the tallest house on the street, and I envy the family that lives under the roof.

It is starting to feel more like fall now, I can see the atmosphere around me finally embracing this. The trees are changing colors rapidly it seems. I see less animals each day.


Did change always come this fast?


The people around the neighborhood have noticed this too. They take longer to wake up, leaving their houses right after the sun comes up to go to work or school. I feel sorry for them coming home with the sun setting at the same time. I am not a fan of the darkness, and I don’t think they are either. It takes away my view as I do my job.


I often wonder, sitting here, what it would be like to leave with the birds. They fly overhead of me with their families, in search of a new place to stay. A short vacation until it warms up again. They sometimes stop near me before their flights. I would say hi if I could. Would they let me join them if I could ask?


I think I would have to be a part of their group already if I wanted to take flight with them next year. But still, my design is not made for flight, as light as I am.


I imagined befriending the sparrows that nested in the backyard last spring. The nest is still there but I was in the wrong direction when they flew away, unable to say goodbye as the host left for the rest of the year. I hope they’re somewhere nice.


There is a family across the street that reminds me of the sparrows. They are new to the neighborhood and only come out for grocery shopping or something related to the kids. They talk about taking a winter vacation as they pack the car before driving away.


Could they allow me to join them?


The wind blows softly this evening as the sun starts to set. It can be nice on the roof, especially when there is no rain or snow hindering my view.


 I am moved to another direction, looking at the house on the other side of the street now.


No one’s home. Maybe they left with the sparrows.


When the rest of the neighborhood gets quiet, I’ll still be up here. Telling the direction of the season’s winds and waiting for their return. There is not much else a weathervane can do.








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