The crops have turned a golden brown as the giant machines reap what they have sowen.
The gords are a brilliant Orange, children dress in costumes as they go door to door begging for sweat treats, older teens play tricks upon unsuspecting grinches.
The night air has a chill that causes a shiver, fires burn as wieners are roasted upon forked sticks.
Loud speakers bello out above the home town fields of green as the boys, score touchdowns, blocking and tackling and first downs.
The smell of rotting leaf fires fill the air, parades carnivals and festivals, laughter, and family marks the end of the summer heat.
Squirrel hunting, the sounds of the hounds baying hang in the timber like a dense morning fog!
The fall is by far the best time if the year..
Before we can blink our eyes it is silver bells, tinsel and twinkling light as the white light snow rests atop of the evergreens.
Fall is my favorite time of the year, Halloween is just around the corner jack o lanterns will line the street!
A poem by Christopher L. Lisenbee