I’d had my eye on him since he was born. When he was first delivered in the Fillidelphia Hospital, there was a strong gale outside. The windows of the hospital rattled, and many of the newborns began to cry. But not him. He looked up, and he smiled. He giggled at my gusts, and reached out towards the window when his mother held him close.
He was named Autumn Leaf because his coat was the red-orange of leaves when they first begin to change, his mane was the deep brown of leaves when they finally fell, and because of the season in which he was born. When he first left the hospital, I blew one of the leaves from a nearby tree onto his forehead. He tried to reach up for it as I floated it towards him, and giggled when he finally felt it touch his head. He looked up, and I could feel his eyes actually seeing me, looking through my transparency and constant motion to gaze with wonder upon what I really am. It was the first time I had ever felt anything look at me and I was so surprised that I quickly retreated to blow on another street. I have regretted this cowardice so many times since then, and have often longed to turn back time to this exact moment.
As he grew up, he turned into quite the rough and tumble Earth Pony, competing in many different sports offered at his school and always up for hoof wrestling or an all out fight, even with an older or stronger pony. If he lost, he still had a smile on his face. Sometimes, I will admit, a suspiciously strong breeze knocked over the arm of his competitor, or made sure his hoofball went into the goal. Whenever I did that, he would look towards me again and smile, although he never looked at me like he did during that special moment when he was a newborn.
Despite all of his rowdiness with the other foals, he never acted out during class, and was constantly referred to as an angel by his teachers. Even though he didn’t get the best grades in most of his classes, he was always on his best behavior and had a certain charm that adults appreciated seeing in a young foal.
The class he liked the best was art. Although he loved running and playing, he could always slow down and concentrate when he was creating something. And even though most of his “masterpieces” were stick-figure drawings of his mom or pots that were dangerously leaning to one side, he was always very proud of everything he made.
Once, he drew a picture of himself standing and looking at a leaf with gray swirls around him. He labeled the swirls “The Wind” , which I was very touched by. As he walked home that day, I created a small special breeze that blew around him and ruffled the edges of the paper, making it appear as though it was about to take flight like the leaf he drew. He loved that drawing, saying what I did was “magic” and he tacked it to a special spot above his bed. He kept that picture for many years.
A few years later, Autumn Leaf was walking home from school when he decided to take a detour through a small park. He admired the leaves as they fell from the trees. Eventually, he just stopped and stared, watching as the leaves danced in the gentle breeze that I had created. I lowered one of the leaves so it was closer to him and twirled it around for a few minutes to get his attention. He watched it, enchanted, before gently touching it to his forehead, just like when he was a newborn. As I did this, Autumn's cutie mark appeared on his flank. It was a single red autumn leaf, his namesake. It was a special moment.
Of course, once he discovered it was there, the moment was gone and he jumped around in excitement trying to get a better look. Then he raced home to show his parents and see the new mark with a mirror. I continued to blow in the park. It almost felt like intruding to follow him and watch, although he might not have even noticed I was there.
The years went by, and he grew into an adolescent. By this point, he had lost a lot of his rough and tumble attitude and had stopped playing sports in favor of spending time in the art room. He had a group of friends from all of the pony races, which I was proud to see. They would often joke around or hang out at each other's houses on the weekends. Autumn always set aside part of his weekdays for working on his art, however. He still loved to draw and paint, but his real passion was for pottery. He loved seeing a lumpy, ugly piece of clay be turned into a beautiful pot or vase. It fascinated him to see something become something else.
Although there was much joy in his life, there was a dark period for Autumn. Many others in his class had gotten their cutie marks around the same time he did, but theirs were more about their specific talent. One of his friends had a needle and thread for her cutie mark because she was amazing at sewing. Although Autumn's mark matched his name, it didn't say anything about the pony he saw himself as. He became jealous of and resented all of the ponies who already knew what they were destined to be. Since this included many of his friends, he started to withdraw, spending more and more time alone in the art room. He made pottery and smashed it. He tore up all of his drawings into pieces so small, they looked like snow. He even took down the drawing of me he had hung over his bed all these years and tucked it deep into a drawer.
His mother noticed the change in him but left him alone after he snapped at her when she asked what was wrong. One day she entered his room to find him lying on his bed, quietly sobbing. She sat down beside him and laid a hoof over him to lend support until he was ready to talk. He lifted his head and quietly told her through his tears that he didn’t know what his cutie mark meant, and he was afraid he would live his life without a purpose.
His mother thought for a moment, staring out the window where I was making the leaves fall again. She explained that a leaf goes through many stages in it’s journey from a bud until it falls. The autumn leaf is the most beautiful and special of all because of its rich color and the seemingly magical change in the trees that creates it. That ability to take something ordinary and turn it into something extraordinary was an example of art in nature. The leaf is a work of art, she said, just like you create.
Autumn was so grateful for her words. They made him understand his true purpose. He was an artist. Soon he was creating his art again, and he reconnected with his old friends. Rather than feeling jealous, he learned to appreciate all of their talents as well as his own. He had a renewed interest in everything, including his schoolwork. He even took out his old stick-figure drawing of himself and hung it back in it’s old place. Once again, I was proud of this young pony. Kind of an odd feeling for the wind to have.
Of course, time passed, as it always does, and soon Autumn grew into a handsome stallion. He had left Fillidelphia directly after graduating for an apprenticeship in pottery, like many ponies choose to do instead of pursue higher education. The master potter for whom he worked was impressed with his talent and helped him to create amazing pieces of art. It seemed to come very naturally to Autumn. He would create pieces as if by magic, pulling the clay upwards into a beautiful shape.
Once he had finished the apprenticeship, he moved into his own house in Fillidelphia. Unlike the other ponies who would shut their windows tightly when I blew by, he always kept his wide open, allowing me inside. He said the wind made his pots lighter and gave them unique shapes. His pots were sought out by ponies from all over Equestria. It was said that whenever one of his pots was placed in a space, it was like a soft breeze had entered the room, creating a calming effect. The glaze he created on each pot was unique and was often described as what the wind would look like if one could portray it in color. I've never felt like such an important part of a pony's life before.
He made one special vase that he kept for himself. It was the same red-orange as his coat and had small indentations all over that formed beautiful swirls of color. It had been a very windy day when he made it. I blew all over inside of his pottery room, so hard he said I shaped the pot with him. He said it was a project he made together with the wind and kept it on his bedside table, right under the picture of me he had made so long ago.
In addition to being so creative, Autumn Leaf was quite the caring pony as well, and was always up for pausing his work to help a pony in need. He was constantly there for anyone who needed a shoulder to cry on, or even if they just wanted to catch up. I thought this was a very admirable trait in him as many ponies I had seen were more selfish with their time, often saying they were too busy to have time for others. However, although Autumn had a wide circle of friends, he never seemed to open up to them about himself. It seemed as though he just didn’t want to burden others with his own problems. But he would talk to me.
On some windy days, when he was feeling uninspired or lonely, he would go out to a park near his home, sit on a bench, and whisper to me. He would pour out his feelings to me and I would try to help him the only way I knew how, by creating warm currents of air that gently ruffled his mane and coat. I wanted to let him know I was there and I heard him. He wasn't alone.
During one of these days in spring, a unicorn mare approached him. She had a pale pink coat and her mane was as yellow as the stars foals draw in their pictures of the night sky. She sat by him, asking why he was out alone in the wind.
He explained that it was comforting to sit out and feel the wind. He said that as odd as it sounded, it seemed like the wind really listened to him and cared for him. I tried to give a sign that he was right, that I truly did care, but all I could do was strengthen the breeze, blowing so hard the mare’s mane was whipped out of place. She smiled at him and introduced herself as Starlight.
The two talked for hours on the bench and then Autumn invited her to his home where they could have a bit of a break from my strong gusts, which I was starting to pick up in anticipation of a storm. She accepted, and I sent a warm breeze to follow them all the way home.
Months passed, and Autumn and Starlight had been spending more and more time together, which I was glad of. She seemed to be the support he needed, someone to help him as much as he helped others, someone to be there for him. I was happy for him, but it made me a bit sad at the same time. With a pony to talk to, it didn’t seem like he needed me as much. He never came out to the park anymore, and if he did he came with Starlight because it reminded them of the day they met. They would often kiss each other on the same bench where I had helped to comfort him before. I decided to try and forget about Autumn. After all, I always knew he would find someone. It would hurt me too much to watch him for his entire life as he gradually moved on and then forgot me altogether.
I blew alone.
~~~~~
One day, I was blowing a cold breeze by Autumn’s house when I heard laughter from inside. It was a mare, but it wasn’t Starlight. I turned back and watched at his window for a moment.
He was sitting at the table in his kitchen, smiling and laughing with a pegasus mare. She had a light grey coat with a darker grey, wavy mane. Her cutie mark was a few dark clouds. I stared for a few seconds longer, then blew away. He still had friends over at his house often, so I didn’t think anything of it.
That is, until I saw him with her again a few nights later. They were just talking, and I almost moved on, until I saw him lean forward and give her a brief kiss. This intrigued me enough that I hung around for a bit longer even though I had promised myself to try and forget about him. The mare smiled and then pulled him in for a longer kiss, closing her eyes. They were both smiling as they pulled away. I was a bit confused, as I had thought Autumn and Starlight had been a couple before now and had never seen him break it off with her. But I had been staying away for a while. Anything might have happened. I gave the two one last look and then blew away in a cold wind, trying not to care about the fact that I might have missed something major in Autumn’s life.
But the next day, he was with Starlight in the park again. I paused near him and felt out with small, sharp tendrils of wind, gently nudging the stallion. I was curious about what he was doing and kept trying to think of possible explanations other than the one that was right in front of me, that he was dating two mares at the same time. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably at the sudden cold and suggested to Starlight that they go to his house to escape the chill. They sat at the same table he had sat at with the other mare the night before. I blew a cold wind inside, but this time he shut his window.
This went on for several more months, with Autumn meeting the grey mare, who I learned was named Storm Cloud, in various locations around town. I started following him around again, blowing a cold wind at his back, but he shrugged me off. Eventually, he took down the picture he drew. I suppose he did it to try and forget about me, or make me stay away. But I didn’t leave. I could tell that what he was doing was going to end up hurting all three of them and as much as I tried to deny it, I didn’t want to see Autumn hurt.
Starlight knew. She could feel it in his presence, the way he made excuses at times he didn’t need to, the way he’d abruptly say he was busy and needed to leave and wouldn’t tell her where he was going. And she was hurt. At times like these, I would send her a comforting, warm wind to her, one that softly brushed by her mane and reminded her that she wasn't alone. However, I normally hurt more than I helped, as the winds reminded her of the day she and Autumn had first met and would send her into tears. There was nothing I could do.
One night, I caught Starlight talking to some of her friends in a small café. In a sad tone, she told them that she was going to break it off with Autumn the next night. It wasn't something she wanted to do and she would miss that special connection that they had shared, but she just couldn't trust him any longer.
Without even thinking about it, I blew off toward his house. It's a bit hard for me to explain, never having experienced love myself, but I could tell that he truly did love both Starlight and Storm Cloud. But if he couldn't choose one, he would eventually lose both, and that would crush him.
His window was locked, as it always was nowadays. He sat at the table in his pottery room that he had set up for drawing, just staring at a blank piece of paper. His pots hadn't been nearly as good quality lately, and he wasn't making enough by selling just them anymore. They were missing that little extra something, that touch of magic, that my winds had provided. He'd tried expanding into drawing, but his heart wasn't in it. He looked a bit stricken as he sat, caught in a perpetual state of indecision that he had created himself.
I reached out with one tendril of wind, and lightly tapped on his window, creating a ghostly sound through the nearby trees. Autumn started and looked up, but scowled when he realized it was only me. He muttered for me to leave him alone, then shook his head, calling himself crazy for talking to the wind. I stretched out with my wind, and reached for the almost non-existent cracks in the window pane. I forced my winds harder and, finally, a tiny crack appeared between the window and the wall.
I slipped inside Autumn's room and blew until I was right behind his shoulder. He felt the chill and turned, almost looking at me, but not quite. He frowned, looking a bit confused at how I was able to enter, then turned his back from me. I reached down, and did something I'd never expected to have the ability to do. I picked up Autumn's pencil with that one tendril of wind, wrapping it securely around the heavy wood, and began to draw on the page.
First I drew Autumn as I had seen him when he was first born. I dragged the pencil on the paper, the lines varying greatly in thickness, until I had a rough drawing of the foal. It was only a stick figure, the same as he had drawn for me, but I was proud of it nonetheless.
I created a few more sketches of him when he was younger, from when I helped him get his cutie mark to when his mother helped him discover what it really meant. I looked up after this, and Autumn was staring at the page, his eyes wide with shock as though the figures had appeared by magic. The fur on his hoof ruffled in the breeze.
Beginning to tire, but refusing to give up, I continued, drawing him as he was in the present day. Then I drew Starlight and Storm Cloud. Starlight was standing alone, tears dripping from her eyes. Storm Cloud was looking anxious, staring at the other mare, loving Autumn but not wanting to break Starlight's heart. Under the three, I wrote in blocky text, using everything I had learned from peering outside the various Equestrian schools, YOU MUST CHOOSE. Finally, I was exhausted, and the pencil dropped to the table in a clatter.
Autumn stared at the page for a moment longer, then looked up. He quietly whispered to the air that he must have really hurt Starlight. I nodded, but he couldn't see me. I blew a gust of cold air past his ear and he understood. He nodded and made his choice.
Autumn ran out of the room and to the path to Starlight's house, finding Starlight still walking home from the café. He grabbed her from behind and spun her around. She looked up, surprised. He explained to her everything that happened between him and Storm Cloud, completely opening himself up to the mare. He said that he knew what he had done was wrong but that he wanted to make it up to her, if it was possible. He said that she was truly the mare for him, and asked heartfeltly for her forgiveness.
Much to both his and my delight, she accepted. She told him that she had been very upset, and that it would probably be hard to win back her trust, but she appreciated what it must have taken for him to finally tell the truth. He invited her over to his house, but she declined, saying that it was very late but she would come over tomorrow.
After she was gone, I was so excited and proud that I lifted Autumn up in a huge warm gust. It takes strength to apologize to a pony but it takes true courage to admit that you were wrong. Realizing too late what I had done, I set the colt back down again.
Autumn smiled, then walked over to a nearby tree, where the last leaves were about to fall in preparation for winter. Using his teeth, he plucked one off and carried it back over to where he had been standing. He searched with his eyes for a moment, then I could feel him seeing me, just as he had when he was first born, looking right into my eyes. And this time, I stared back.
He took the leaf that he held and gently released it, placing it right where my forehead would be, before stepping away. As he turned around to go back to his home, he stared right into my eyes and whispered one thing.
"Thank you, Wind."
