The wind  was blowing from from the south that day. It made Sarah think of the Sirocco:  that scorching, dusty blast that withers everything, dries everything, spreads a network of wrinkles over the smooth cheek. The trees were still green. But that would not last. The year was on the turn. Sarah recalled her old longings to migrate to warmer climes: when she saw the swallows gathering on the wires, she used to want to follow them, but not any more. There was something attractive about autumn, after all. She was pretty close to the sere herself. Indeed somewhat past it, if the truth be told. 

She drove her car to a wood, and walked till she came to a clearing. The sunlight was aslant. Now, she thought, now, if the change comes, it will be this very minute. And so it was. The wind veered round and began to blow from the north. The leaves trembled on the trees and the birdsong became more urgent. Sarah thought she saw someone in the distance. The sun was so low that it was almost blinding, and she held up her hand to shade her eyes, so that she could see who it was. 

It was a man sitting  on a tree stump. He looked astonishing: a russet colour, shining curls, a direct gaze. He sounded astonishing too: a low humming, like a beehive at work. And as she drew closer, she realised that he smelled wonderful as well: cloves, nutmeg, quinces. His clothes too: his jacket was festooned with blackberries and sloes. Elderberries cascaded down, making his whole body a juicy rivulet. He was moist all over. Every now and then, he reached into his pocket and brought out a nut, which he cracked and ate with relish, smiling all the while. A squirrel sat on each shoulder. Dormice played over his feet.

Now, Sarah had not expected this. She knew her Keats, and recalled that the Goddess of Autumn was unquestionably a woman, “on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep.” Yet here he was, sensual and intent. He was listening to the turn of the year, encouraging it. She knew about the Green Man, of course, though she had never seen him. But it seemed that there was a Brown Man as well, a rosy, sleepy one who was not afraid of the change to come. She walked over and sat by him. Yes. Watch and wait. Yes, that was it.