Autumn Rumours

Funny Autumn Rumours

One autumn afternoon, a lonely sparrow arrived in the vineyard carrying a piece of news so important that she could barely keep her balance on the fence.

"Winter is coming!" she announced.

The vineyard fell silent.

"Are you sure?" asked a frog from the reeds.

"I heard it from a swallow who heard it from a crow who heard it from a raven who lives near the mountains."

The frog considered this.

It seemed a rather long chain of communication.

But before he could ask any more questions, the sparrow was already gone.

There was news to spread.

And she had always enjoyed spreading news.

By evening, every creature in the valley had heard the rumour.

The frogs disappeared deeper into the reeds.

The hedgehogs began inspecting their winter accommodation.

The women in the village pulled their scarves tighter beneath their chins.

Even the dandelions seemed less cheerful.

The sparrows, meanwhile, flew from bush to bush announcing increasingly dramatic updates.

"Winter will arrive any minute!"

"Possibly before supper!"

"Some sources suggest before tea!"

The vineyard became nervous.

The reeds became nervous.

The clouds looked nervous merely out of solidarity.

Only the old poplar tree in the yard remained perfectly still.

The sparrows found this suspicious.

At sunset, one particularly energetic sparrow landed on a branch.

"Have you not heard the news?"

"I have," said the poplar.

"And you're not worried?"

The old tree thought for a moment.

Then it released a single yellow leaf.

The leaf spun lazily through the air and landed on the grass below.

"No."

The sparrow was astonished.

"No?"

"No."

"But winter is coming."

"Yes."

"And the cold."

"Probably."

"And the frost."

"Almost certainly."

The sparrow hopped anxiously along the branch.

"Then why aren't you doing something?"

The poplar looked toward the distant mountains.

"My dear sparrow, I have already lived through more winters than you have feathers."

The sparrow immediately stopped hopping.

That sounded like a very large number.

The tree continued.

"Every year someone arrives with the same news."

"Really?"

"Every year."

"And what do you do?"

The old poplar smiled in the slow way that only trees can smile.

"I let go of what I no longer need."

Another leaf drifted downward.

"And then?"

"I wait for spring."

The sparrow looked around.

The frogs were hiding.

The leaves were fleeing.

The vineyard was glowing red and gold as though it had caught fire.

Everything seemed to be changing.

For the first time all day, she stopped talking.

The wind moved gently through the branches.

Another leaf floated away.

"Do you know something?" asked the sparrow quietly.

"What?"

"I think everybody is making a terrible fuss."

The poplar laughed.

A deep wooden laugh.

"That is because everybody believes winter is the end of the story."

"And it isn't?"

The old tree looked toward the horizon where the sun was sinking behind the hills.

"No," he said.

"It's just a chapter."

And somewhere above the vineyard, the first flock of geese continued south, carrying next season's rumours.