As the clouds gathered and thundered in the sky, the frogs, who had lain silent for so long, began to croak joyously, much like brāhmaṇas resuming their sacred recitations after completing their vows. The small rivers, once dried up and wandering from their courses, now flowed freely again, their renewed vigor reminiscent of the independence that restores a man's wealth and strength. The earth, freshly adorned with green grass and dotted with red indragopa insects, was shaded by mushrooms, radiating fortune for all who beheld it. Fields, bursting with crops, brought happiness to the farmers, while the proud who failed to recognize the workings of fate felt regret. All creatures, whether on land or in water, were refreshed by the rains, their beauty enhanced as if by the service of Hari. Rivers, now joined by many streams, swelled and surged with waves driven by the wind, just as the mind of an inexperienced yogi is stirred by passion and the play of qualities. The mountains, struck by torrents of rain, stood firm and unmoved, like those whose minds are fixed on the Supreme, unshaken by calamity. The paths became uncertain, overgrown and unmarked, reminding one of the Vedas neglected by brahmins and obscured by quarrel. Relationships among people proved as fleeting as lightning among clouds, and similarly, the constancy of women toward men, even those of virtue, waned. In the sky, the rainbow appeared without qualities, yet seemed to possess them, just as a person without qualities appears adorned when qualities are manifest. The moon, veiled by radiant clouds, failed to shine forth, just as a person blinded by ego cannot reveal his own true brilliance. Peacocks, delighted by the arrival of clouds, rejoiced, but in their homes, scorched and disheartened, they awaited the coming of the Lord, just as His devotees yearn for Him. The trees, having drunk deeply with their roots, regained their forms, recovering from the exhaustion of austerity, just as one is restored after pursuing desires. Cranes settled in tranquil waters, much like people with vain hopes dwelling in households filled with restless duties. The embankments were broken by torrents of water sent by the lord of rain, just as the paths of the Vedas are broken in Kali Yuga by the false words of heretics. The clouds, driven by the winds, released water like nectar for all beings, just as lords of wealth, urged by the twice-born, grant blessings at the proper time. Into this vibrant forest, Hari, accompanied by his companions, cows, and cowherds, entered to enjoy its bounty, rich with ripe dates and jambu trees. The cows, heavy with milk, moved slowly, but when called by the Lord, they came quickly, their udders moist with affection. The forest dwellers rejoiced at the sight of trees dripping with honey, and the caves near the mountains echoed with the sound of falling water. Sometimes, when rain fell in hollows of trees or caves, the Lord entered and delighted there, eating roots, tubers, and fruits. With Sankarshana and the cowherds, he ate the curds and rice brought for them, sitting on a stone near the water, sharing the meal with his companions. Seated on grass, as they grazed, the bulls, calves, and cows closed their eyes in contentment, weary from the weight of their udders, yet satisfied. Beholding the glory of the rainy season, which brought joy to all beings and was enhanced by his own power, the Lord worshipped it. Thus, as Rama and Keshava dwelt in Vraja, autumn arrived, with clear skies, pure waters, and gentle winds. In autumn, as the lotuses bloomed, the waters returned to their natural state, just as the minds of those fallen are restored through yoga. Autumn removed the clouds from the sky, impurity from the earth, and filth from the waters, just as devotion to Krishna cleanses ascetics of impurity. Having abandoned all possessions, the beings shone with pure radiance, resembling sages who have renounced all desires and are freed from sin. The mountains released their waters, but sometimes withheld what was auspicious, just as the wise give the nectar of knowledge at the proper time, or sometimes do not. Creatures living in deep waters did not perceive the diminishing water, just as foolish householders fail to notice their lifespan decreasing day by day. Those dwelling in the depths did not feel the heat of the autumn sun, like pitiable householders with uncontrolled senses who do not perceive their suffering. Gradually, the plants shed their mud and dryness, just as wise people slowly give up notions of 'I' and 'mine' regarding body and other non-self things. The ocean became still and silent at the arrival of autumn, just as a sage, when all movements cease, becomes fully absorbed in the self. Farmers drew water from fields with strong embankments, just as yogis, restraining the flow of knowledge with their vital energies, control it. The moon removed the heat caused by the autumn sun from living beings, just as Mukunda dispelled the suffering born of bodily identification in the women of Vraja. The sky appeared spotless and full of pure stars in autumn, just as the mind endowed with goodness perceives the meaning of the sound of Brahman. The moon, surrounded by stars, shone in the sky with its unbroken orb, just as Krishna, surrounded by the Vṛṣṇi clan, shone on earth. Embracing the forest breeze, which was both cool and warm and fragrant with flowers, the people shed their suffering, but the gopīs, whose hearts were stolen by Krishna, could not. Cows, deer, birds, women, and flowering plants flourished in autumn, sought by their own males, just as fruits are produced by the actions of the Lord. Lotus flowers rejoiced at the rising of the sun, except for the night-blooming lilies; just as people are fearless under a king, but not in the presence of robbers. In towns and villages, with festivals and senses delighted, the earth shone, rich with ripe harvests, especially due to the arts of Hari.