Summers warm blanket has slid off in the middle of the night inviting the nip to nibble and tingle the senses. Asleep in the fatness of summer warmth and then jerked awake only to find some part of ourselves exposed to the new Fall. Rain turns cold and then heavy, laden with weight as crystals transform water into falling art. All the while teasing of winter or perhaps warning of winter. “Get ready, steady yourselves and prepare for the long dark hours of cold.” The walking, crawling and slithering creatures pay no mind to the returning rain. Shirking typical reactions to rain, dawn your jacket and coax your face towards the falling sky. Now, wet from the inside and wet from the outside. No matter, we’ll mix up our wet misery with quenched praise sung by all in unison. Rain is here! Rain has fallen! Find your cup! Find your shelter! Drink deep with your roots, pores, beaks, lips or with your hands dipped into a creek. Watch the water fall, watch the water dance, watch the water meld, shape, twist, roll, flatten and swirl as cascades, infiltrates and splashes on all. No prejudice. Continuous, persistent, patient….annoyingly patient, it pours, devours and shapes all of us. No matter, the absence of water defined the months passed. Parched ground, scratchy throats, thirsty plants and trees gave praise to the glowing star during the summer but cursed the skies that denied their satisfaction for so long, but not now. It’s Fall. Green gave way to illuminating yellows, reds and golds shading the shorelines of creeks, rivers and lakes for the last time. Trees of color take a last deep breath, meditating, slowing, storing, pulling inward, preparing. All of this reeks of the age old question of the chicken or the egg. Which of the four seasons came first? Does it matter? Did we create seasons through necessity or did the seasons create us? These preposterous questions must be stifled, Fall is happening and the coursing of water, the beauty of golding aspens, first snows and cold nips shout for attention not distraction.