Braving the Winds

The winds of seasonal change blow thru here a lot it seems, storms and rain, leaves scattering about, and the corn rattling dry leaves scaring the birds away. Each year, my Scarecrow stands with his corn, braving wind and rain and snow, until the season of change, has changed to winter. Every so often a small sunbeam finds him under the spreading boughs of the maple trees he guards, bringing a slight smile, and out peeks the crows who hide in the folds of his costume. A small face peeks, a tiny hand waves as the child passes by safely encased in the bright yellow school bus, waving to the sentry of Fall.
Soon the green will be white, and the leaves will mulch the sleeping grass until spring again arrives.