There is a soft gray mist rising from the lake this chilly October morning and as the early sunlight shines on the water it sends sparkles dancing through that smoky mist. Along the banks, the trees are beginning to turn from green to gold, to rust and to bright red. They glow in the morning sun. Overhead the sky is clear and blue with just a few traces of high feathery-pink clouds.

As I stand on the deck sipping a hot cup of coffee, I watch and listen to the world waking up all around me. In the distance, a rooster crows and there is the even more distant sound of a cow calling good morning. From a nearby tree, a hawk welcomes the day with a high-pitched screech.

It is chilly and the cool air wraps around me, making me shiver even though I am wearing a sweatshirt. My feet are cold in my sandals and I tuck them under me as I sit down for a moment.

Out on the water, I see a group of small dark-colored ducks gliding along near the bank in search of breakfast. My mama bulldog barks as they move into what she considers her territory. They pay her no attention as she races along the edge of the water voicing her objection to their presence.

Now my hands are cold despite the hot cup they hold so I go inside to warm up. Sitting at my bedroom window, I look out at the carpet of brown leaves that covers the ground. The green canopy over the yard grows thinner every day, changing the shadow patterns under the trees.

“Fall is finally here,” I whisper and I smile.

This is my favorite season, the one I enjoy the most. I love the way it looks, the sight of orange pumpkins, hay bales and pots of lemon-yellow mums. Along the dirt road, there are clusters of purple, pink and white wild flowers blooming. The crunch of leaves as I walk through the yard and the ping of acorns hitting the roof is the music of the season to me.

There is a peacefulness about this time of year, a feeling of completion. Mother Nature’s summer work ends at last and now is her time to slow down as the dreamtime of winter approaches.

It is a gift to live so near the wild world this time of year, to be able see deeper into the woods as the trees shed their leaves and to watch deer amble into the yard to munch on a treat of newly fallen acorns. What a blessing to hear birds without the sound of traffic noise to distract from their songs.

As I sit quietly listening, I hear fall calling to me on this glorious October morning. It sings to me in the quacking voice of the ducks. It waves to me through the silver mist above the water. It touches me with its chilly early-morning breath.

And from my window, I answer.

“Welcome back,” I call. “I’ve been waiting for you to return.”