All Is Forgiven

In a northern latitude where climate
rules, word of impending weather is
always first and foremost on everyone's
anxious tongue, warning of extreme
events, complaining of nature's tantrums
and her intransigent disregard for the
comfort and well-being of her hapless
creatures, a gloom descends when the
all-too-brief season of warmth and sun
prepares to depart leaving another year's
memories of transitorily benign days
all too soon consumed by rampaging
time, in their wake a rising tide of
expectation buoyed unhappily by those
sage interpretations of farmers weighing
subtle hints to predict an oncoming winter
of ultra ferocity, and all shiver within 
the confines of their shelters hastily
embarking on preparations for survival.
Days and weeks of waning light and
cooling nights of frost and migrating
birds increase the anxiety quotient
beyond toleration. Then sanity returns
to the hovering masses suddenly
noticing the beauty surrounding them
and the forgiving of nature's extremes
when autumn allows a final few weeks
of gloriously benign days where the
landscape extends its invitation to 
enjoy what we have when we have it.