It is a lovely soft mid-fall morning here in Humptulips County; the sky is light blue, speckled with clouds and tinted with the rose hue of a still rising sun, and the hills I can see from our library window are suffused with the merest hint of October’s proprietary blue haze.
But tomorrow will be different; heavy rains and winds are predicted to begin in earnest then, ushering in the start of autumn’s annual war with winter. Winter will win in the end as it always does, but there is ample vitality remaining to the current season as evidenced by the fact that not all of the leaves, needles, and pinecones have yet fallen to earth. Indeed, not all of the leaves have even begun turning, and there is still plenty of green to go around.
Fall never concedes to winter without a damned good fight.  The upcoming battle will be drenched in drama; the winds will roar their challenges and the rains will pound on our roofs to demand entry. The outdoors will retain a share of our focus even as we hunker down within the safety of our four walls, turn up the thermostat, and turn our attention to indoor pleasures, but only in the way that excellently produced stage spectacles can grab our attention if well played by the principal actors; gone will be the shared intimacies between lovers that dominated our relationship with the outdoors during the last few months.  In the upcoming scene, each of us will be reduced to bit players with occasional walk-on roles; its inherent drama and passions are much too great for us to play anything like a starring role.
Indeed, our best place is in the audience. We are well suited for membership and take to it instinctively – as does all manner of life.  This upcoming scene is meant to be enjoyed for its classical drama and music, for its power and passion, for its rapacious highs and dreary lows, and it needs an audience for that purpose; a sophisticated audience that is well aware that all will end happily when those in starring roles are laid to rest under the sparkling quilt of early winter.
