A process of gradual fading, withering or dying...
The smell of fallen leaves is wafting in the air. Farms and orchards are burning the remains of dead leaves and haulm. The ducks, streaking south, fly past our house. It means that cold weather and night frosts are brewing. Nature puts her life on pause for an entire winter, which sometimes seems like an eternity to me.
The colors of autumn are appealing in their nobility: brown, gold and burgundy are the main hues in the forest. All the greenery is shriveled up, and only the moss along the trail shimmers in the rays of the setting sun. After night frosts, the frost covers the dried flowers and they look like a work of art, especially the hanging large bunches of morning glory and rudbeckia.
After a cold night, the sun rises and is still trying to warm the earth. I feel it gradually warming my face and hands. Gradually we are cleaning out our garden, clearing out the dead wood and decor from the seating area, and hauling away the summer stuff. For the first time this season, we stoke the stove and feel the heat of the dry wood that has been sitting out all summer.
The harshness and gloominess of autumn more and more often predisposes to reflection and gradual summing up. And the transience of the day urges us to get things done sooner, before it gets dark.