The Hidden Valley of the Tetons' Fall
The Senses of Fall's arrival
The viridescent sea of grasses in the valley stand tall under the watchful eyes of my ancestors, etched in the staunch white aspen trunks dressed in their crowns of golden coins.
The haunting bugle of a distant elk awakens my awareness of the echoing rush that suddenly swept the aspen so the coins join the cacophony, quaking, clattering, rustling into the decrescendo of a gentle hushed farewell as they fall to rest on the muffled forest floor, until, at last, the psithurism slows to a whispered homage.
As the leaves fall, skimming and sweeping against my face with the gentleness of the touch of a newborn’s mother, the moisture released from the folds and tips of branch and leaf impart autumn’s damp, cool kiss upon my skin, quickly spreading as a shiver.
Upon my lips, the drops converge with a fresh perfection, leaving a lingering sweet hint of the aspen’s spring honeydew, and a nearly imperceptible bitterness as summer leaves.
As I leave with a melancholic inhalation, the dusty, musky aroma of aspen mingle with the terpenes of the spruce, creating the earthy scent of the swirling redolence of the forest’s autumnal wine.
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Comments (2)
This is a beautiful and evocative description of the sensory experience of autumn in the Tetons. The imagery is vivid, and the language is both lyrical and precise. You've captured the essence of the season, from the vibrant colors of the leaves to the crispness of the air. The way you've intertwined the natural world with personal sensory experiences creates a truly immersive reading experience.
well done