
November is an enigmatic month. Around here it’s when the clocks slide backwards—a turning back of the pendulum if you will—bringing with it an early onslaught of darknessBut with that comes what are undisputably the most beautiful sunsets of the entire year, lighting up crimson against a backdrop of stormy black, bringing with it stunning visuals reminiscent of the forces of Mordor marching on Minas Tirith. These sunsets come excruciatingly early more often than not. It’s a time of transition, of strangely cold weather and snow that flutters in large flakes through the sky but melts before it reaches the ground. It’s a time of year when the weather is cold, but not quite that cold and you have no idea which of your coats is appropriate to wear until you’ve walked out the door in the wrong one. It’s definitely transcended beyond the temperature at which you’d want to take a walk, but Autumn Skye has decided to brave the cold anyway. It’s a bit windy, so her scarf is billowing in a stiff breeze, but she doesn’t want to miss out on what might be one the last walks she can take before she has to trudge through snow deeper than her short, cute legs.

Above image: Autumn Skye enjoys a crisp fall breeze rustling through the leaves of a burning bush decked out in crimson colours.
Her colour palette perfectly embodies this time of year, with her steely grey-blue body reminiscent of a November sky and her yellow and orange mane recall memories of the faded leaves skimming across the ground in the biting breeze, imitating sparrows; a scene represented in her cutie mark. She does a wonderful job of representing this strange intermediary time, and pairs beautifully with the weather passing by my window. I’ve had this sweet little pony since I was little, taking her on wild and slightly zany adventures from my imagination on my bedroom floor. Seeing her now, posed in front of the autumn scenery brings a warm fuzzy kind of happiness, perhaps somewhat akin to a warm cozy blanket you might curl up in on a chilly late autumn day.
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