I sit with a feeling of sadness tonight as I write this. The signs of another approaching winter are all too clear. It is now getting dark at 8 PM instead of 9 PM. The days are growing shorter. I can see the last vestiges of the sun as I look out my window at what used to be an early hour filled with the orange skies of sunset.
Also, that specific call of a certain species of cricket sings beyond my open windows. It makes me reflect upon a time, long ago, during my first stint of college. I was sitting out on my back porch playing my guitar when I first noticed those cricket calls in the fall; an omen for those dank, cold winter months ahead.
Soon, my open windows will be shut for what will seem like an eternity as winter passes. Those cold nights with a brisk wind blowing will greet me. I will shudder when I think back upon those lazy summer days full of warmth and skies filled with puffy cumulus clouds. I will wrap up in my warm comforters upon my bed to be greeted by silence. No crickets; no katydids; just the sound of that cold wind whistling in the slats of my windows. I shall turn off my bedside lamp and go to sleep with that lonesome and wistful feeling that winter brings upon me.
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