Too dark for pictures, I went outside during the last moments of dusk to acknowledge the Winter Solstice. When I next see the sun, it will be winter. I stood still and listened to the whir of distant commuters rushing home for the night. I watched gray cross overtop gray as the clouds rolled toward some defined destination. I heard the tambourine clink of the chipping sparrows as they prepared to roost, the squeal of a racoon as it prepared to wake, the footsteps of a deer as it began to move. I envisioned the geese as they announced their nightly gathering on the creek. I smelled the temperature difference and felt the sting on my nose. Everything was in transition, day to night. “Goodnight fall,” I said. “See you next year.”

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