At this time of the season the almighty Sun seems to have been robbed off his heat & shine slowly, yet steadily. What is that thing dwindling your powers, oh mighty one....powers with which you used to torch thirsty and sweaty souls of the earthlings.
The wind begins to whistle apparently celebrating the easy submission of the Sun. The chillness with which it sails sends literal shivers down the spine. The withered trees unable to fight back, meekly shed its yellow leaves one by one only to be whirled around, played with & transferred to places unknown. With such wild abandon, how can be the accomplice far behind?
Somewhere, in a distant place, unknown to folks, a dust of moisture seems to be drawing blood to sustain the ballooning proportions it is slowly gathering though the chillness can slightly be felt even from a great distance. One fine morning, the Sun didn't wake up even when the whole world has already awoken. Then & there fog comes galloping along riding on the wind with a blazing trail behind, blinding everything and sucking each and every photon of light on the way threatening to freeze life.
And in comes Mr. Laziness, Please welcome him, always waiting & scheming for the opportune moment. Whisking in just after a sumptuous meal or slipping in from the back door when the temperature just peaks....such are your stealthy ways, hypnotizing & anesthetizing all the unsuspecting folks who crossed your paths.