Winds of autumn

March may come in like a lion, but there’s at least a tiger roaring late each autumn.

The winds that wash away winter and bring us spring have their fall counterparts. They have equal force, but get less good press. The lack of song and poetry about this season of the year probably stems from our displeasure with the icy blasts that fold up the last hardy flowers, kill most things green and send birds scurrying southward.

Although we may not like what these winds portend, look at it this way.  This cold, barren season helps us appreciate the spring and summer all the more.